To Build a Home
by the-black-drop
Summary: SEQUEL TO 'THE ACADEMY' AND 'BOSTON'. FINAL CHAP! AU, Peter and Olivia deal with the highs and lows of married life as they learn secrets from their past, are threatened by ZFT and face challenges that test their marriage. T for sex, language, violence
1. Coming Home

**References: playing Guess Who (Immortality), Germany (In Which We Meet Mr Jones), visit from German Federal Police (Ability Deleted Scene), "being fearless" (The Transformation), "What are we gonna have to deal with next, right?" (LSD)**

It was past 2am when Olivia got home that night. Her flight from Germany had been long and boring, but she thought it was worth putting up with to get home early to her husband. She chuckled a little under her breath as she stepped quietly inside their apartment. Her husband. She still couldn't quite get her head around the gravity of that word, even though she and Peter had been married for almost four months. She'd never pictured herself to be the type to get married, especially at 26, which she considered young. It was just a little strange sometimes. They were still in that surreal honeymoon period where everything was new to them. Peter had been right. It was beautiful. Challenging of course, but beautiful nonetheless.

She left her luggage by the bedroom door and changed out of her clothes, watching Peter sleep. Wearing just a singlet and underwear, she slid into bed with him and debated whether or not she should wake him up. She thought it would be more fun to surprise him, so she straddled his waist and covered his closed eyes with one hand while the other gently shook his shoulder. "Guess who," she said, leaning over him to kissing his bare chest.

"Hmmm…" he mumbled, smiling and running his hands down her sides to rest on her hips. "Well, the voice isn't familiar, but the hands I like. They're kind of soft and sexy."

She laughed and he took her hand from his eyes. He looked confused. "Oh. No, sorry, I… I don't recognise you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied playfully. "I must have wandered into the wrong apartment."

"Oh, well, you should probably leave, because I'm waiting for my beautiful wife to come home, and I don't think she'd be happy if she found you in bed with me. We haven't seen each other in a week, and she's really incredible, so…"

"Right, of course. I'll just go," she said, pulling away from him.

He gently cupped her face, stopping her. "But you know, actually, now that I think about it there is something about you that's familiar," he teased, bringing her down to him for a deep, passionate kiss. She laughed in between kisses as he held her close, needing to feel that she was with him.

"Welcome home," he whispered, kissing her cheek and pulling back to smile at her.

"It's good to be back."

"I missed you so much."

"Peter, I was only gone for a week."

"I know, but it's the first time we've been apart since we got married."

"OK, you have a point," she smirked, kissing him. "I missed you too."

He beamed and ran his hands gently over her body as she sat straddling him, his touch sensual but not demanding. "I thought you weren't supposed to come back until tomorrow night."

"The warden wouldn't let us see Jones again so I had to decide between bumming around for an extra day or switching to an earlier flight. It was an easy choice."

"Thank you. It was a pretty cool surprise." His hand slid beneath her singlet to explore the warmth of her stomach. "Are you tired?"

"Exhausted."

"Let's go to sleep then. We can talk in the morning."

She smirked. "Talk, huh? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

He rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said, his face displaying mock annoyance as he crossed his arms. "Just that if you think that's all I want you for then frankly I'm offended."

"Aww, poor baby," she teased, her palms moving over his chest. "You want to stay up, then? Would that make you feel better?"

"No, you're tired," he replied shortly, still playing with her. 'Besides, maybe I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"That's OK," she smirked, leaning down to nibble on his ear. "I don't want to talk either."

Unable to keep the joke up anymore, he laughed and pulled her face to his, running his spare hand down her back as he kissed her long and hard. Quickly responding, she whimpered into the kiss as her hands explored his bare chest and stomach, making him shudder. Soon enough they were lost in each other, driving each other crazy wanting more, always more. The only sounds in the room were hot, heavy breaths and the occasional moans and whimpers against each others lips. Peter's hands moved further up under her singlet and she pulled back, breaking the kiss for a moment to pull it over her head. She smirked as Peter's hungry eyes went wide and he kissed her hard and ardently, his hands taking their time with the newly exposed flesh.

"I missed you so much," he murmured against her skin as his lips moved down over her chest.

She laughed, caught by surprise when he suddenly flipped her over and hungrily pinned her against the sheets.

* * *

><p>Before Peter even opened his eyes in the morning, he could smell Olivia on his pillow and feel her warm belly pressed against his. He smiled and let his fingers skitter over the bare skin of her back, glad that last night hadn't been just a dream. The fact that she'd missed him just as much as he missed her made his heart swell. He felt ridiculous in a way – he'd never missed anyone like this before, and she'd only been gone a week. This girl really did drive him crazy.<p>

Looking over her as she slept, he couldn't believe that she was his. Mostly he couldn't believe that he was hers. It still amazed him sometimes that he managed to convince someone that stubborn to marry him, but somehow it was true. Even though it had been a few months, there were still days where it felt like a miracle.

A smile crept upon his face as he noticed her stir, starting to wake up. She rubbed her eyes and smiled up at him sleepily. "Hey."

"Hey," he parroted, kissing her softly. "I'm so glad you're here. Our bed was cold when you were away."

She snuggled closer to him. "I missed you too."

"How was Germany?"

"OK. We didn't get very far. Jones just wanted to play games with me."

"Like what?"

"Peter, you know what the ZFT members are like. Whenever a rational person starts to reason with them they just keep spouting ideological bullshit. But Jones…I don't know, he was different."

"Different how?"

She bit her lip, wiping the pad of her thumb across her mouth. He knew this to be one of her trademark gestures when she was unsure of something. "Jones said he knew me when I was a kid. He said I was experimented on with a drug called Cortexiphan."

"Is that true?"

"No, of course not. I've never even heard of Cortexiphan. Have you?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"It's just weird. He was convinced that he knew me, and that this drug was the reason why. He said the experiment made me "special", that it was the first step of my recruitment into ZFT."

"Do you believe him?"

She paused. "I'm not sure. I mean, he's obviously brainwashed, or insane, or both. He's a convicted terrorist. I have no reason to trust him. It's just the way he said it. He really believed it, I could tell." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'll talk to Nina and see if she can tell me if the experiments even existed. Until then I'm not going to assume anything."

"Sounds like a plan," he said, kissing her forehead. "But whether he's right or not, we'll figure it out."

"I know. I'm not worried."

"Good. The guy's insane, Livia. He was probably lying through his teeth just to scare you."

"Maybe."

He sighed and tried to change the subject. "Thanks again for coming home early."

That made her smile. "You would have done it for me."

"True. How was the rest of the trip?"

"What rest of the trip? It's not like I had time to go sightseeing or anything."

He bit his tongue and took a breath before looking back to her. "You know what I'm asking, Olivia."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You can't be serious."

"Olivia, I need to know," he said seriously. "Did Lucas try anything with you?"

Olivia glared at him and rolled away from him to grab her clothes from the floor. "I can't believe you're even asking me that. I'd never let something like that happen."

"I know," he assured her, gently pulling her back. "I trust you, but I don't trust him. I know you guys have history, and -"

"Peter, he's a decent guy. He knows I'm married. We've both moved on. We were just there to work and he was very professional. There was nothing to worry about and I can't believe you'd even think that -"

"Olivia, I'm sorry," he said earnestly, hanging his head. "I'm sorry, I... Please try to understand. I'm not good at this sort of thing, you know that. You're the only girl I've ever really loved and I'm terrified of losing you to someone else. We've only been married for a little while and things are so good right now. I just don't want anything to ruin what we have – I love you too much."

She softened, trying to see things his way. If Peter had spent a week in a foreign country with Tessa she probably wouldn't be too happy about it either. "Peter, I promise, nothing happened," she assured him, cupping his face gently. "We went out after work once just so we could catch up. He apologised for breaking up with me the way he did, and we talked. But that's all, Peter. Everything else was just work."

"OK," he said softly, believing her. "Thank you, for telling me. I won't ask again. Next time I'll try not to be so insecure."

"It's OK. I get it," she replied, kissing him and lying back in bed to rest in his arms. She closed her eyes, starting to drift off to sleep again. She felt him kiss her hair.

Then there was a knock at the door. "It's 7am," Peter grumbled.

Olivia groaned, poking his stomach. "You get it."

"No, you get it."

"No, you get it!"

"I always get it!"

Olivia opened her eyes and gave Peter a knowing look which he returned. He sighed and brought his hand out from beneath the sheets to be next to hers. They played Scissors Paper Rock and Peter lost. Olivia grinned – she almost always won. Peter rolled his eyes and started getting dressed. The person outside knocked harder. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he mumbled, heading to answer the door.

When he opened it, Broyles and some others he didn't recognise were standing on the other side. "Well, this can't be good," he thought aloud.

"I'm afraid not," Broyles replied. "Is your wife home? We need to speak to her immediately."

"Sure, just give me a sec. She's sleeping. Please, come in, take a seat. You want some coffee or something?"

"No thank you. Just Olivia."

_This sounds serious_, Peter thought. The all came inside to sit at the kitchen table while Peter disappeared back into the bedroom.

"Who was it?" Olivia mumbled.

"Broyles and co. They need to talk to you."

"Great," she groaned, dragging herself out of bed and getting dressed. She and Peter went back out to meet the others.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Sorry for the surprise, but this is urgent," Broyles explained. He gestured to a blonde woman sitting beside him. "This is Adele Nevin with German Federal Police. She needs to talk to you."

"What happened?"

Nevin pulled out a file and handed a photo to Olivia. "Is this man familiar to you?"

"Yes. David Robert Jones."

"You've met him before? When?"

"A few days ago in a prison outside of Frankfurt."

"Why did you travel all the way to Germany to visit him?"

"We thought he may be helpful in one of our investigations."

"Helpful how?"

Olivia cast a wary look towards Broyles and he nodded, giving her permission to explain. "We were working a case involving a terrorist organisation named ZFT. A man was dying from a weapon similar to some of Jones' biochemical work and Jones was able to provide us with a cure. Why? Has something happened to him?"

The German lady ignored her question. "Have you had any other contact with Jones?"

"No."

"Your relationship with Jones consists only of this one visit?" she asked sceptically.

"I have no relationship with Jones," Olivia insisted. "I questioned him one time. What's going on?" Olivia was confused but she was comforted by the warm touch of Peter's hand on the small of her back.

"Ms Dunham, can you explain Jones' undue interest in you?" the woman asked, handing over a set of files. Olivia cautiously opened them and was sickened by what she saw. Drawings. Dozens of them, all pictures of her. She could feel anger vibrating from Peter's hand and touched his knee to calm him.

"He drew all of these?" Peter asked.

"I don't understand why he would," Olivia said. "I met him once."

The German officer smiled wryly. "Ms Dunham, he drew those pictures before you came to see him."

That was a kick in the teeth, but Olivia swallowed it with stoicism. "Look, I told you I only met him once. I don't understand. Why are you coming to me about this? Did something happen?"

"Jones escaped last night," Broyles explained.

Under the table, Peter grasped Olivia's hand.

"We have reason to believe that Jones may be here, in the United States."

Olivia gulped. "To find me."

"Perhaps."

"So what happens now?" she asked Broyles.

"Now the major focus of Fringe Division is on finding Jones. I'm sure you are safe, but if we learn Jones is in fact after you for some reason we'll put you and Peter under protective detail."

"I'm sure that's not necessary," she insisted, but Peter gave her a warning look.

"Olivia, listen to them. If they decide you're in danger then we need to let them keep you safe."

Normally she'd argue with him for making such a comment, but she bit her tongue. Now wasn't the time, and she could see that he was genuinely worried. They all talked some more until Broyles and the German agents left. When they were gone, Peter cupped her face in both hands and kissed her before holding her close.

"Peter, it's gonna be fine," she said, trying to ease his worry. "We don't even know if Jones is here. He teleported himself out of prison, he could be anywhere. He could be dead for all we know."

"I just want us to be prepared for whatever could happen."

"Peter, I'm not scared."

"Being fearless doesn't mean you're being safe." He pulled back and brushed some hair out of her eyes, giving her a wry smile. "What are we gonna have to deal with next, right?"

"I don't know. But whatever's going on, we can get through it. We always do."

Peter smiled at her, his expression kind and warm. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied earnestly, holding him close and praying that their almost perfect newlywed life wasn't about to drop away beneath their feet.

**Please Review! This is the last in the trilogy so let's make the most of it, people! **


	2. The Kick

**References: slugs (Bound), Mona the Bug Girl (Immortality), "naptime's over" (Over There: Part 1), obsolete (Over There: Part 2), "bagged and tagged" (Ability**)**, graveyard fight (inner child), Charlie shoots guy in the leg (Plateau**)

Olivia was welcomed back at work by warm, brotherly hugs from Lincoln and Charlie. "Good to have you back, Livvy," Charlie said. "How was Germany?"

"Uhh…frustrating," she replied. "How'd you guys go here?"

"We're getting somewhere on that last infection case – the one with the slugs crawling out of people's throats. ZFT seems to be using the slugs to kill off leading medical researchers so they can start an epidemic of some kind. We might even have enough to send us on a raid tonight. Broyles is getting a warrant processed now."

"Great. How are you guys?"

"Yeah, it's all good."

"Can't complain," Lincoln said, grinning as he munched on a Red Vine.

She just grinned in response. Lincon's smile was always contagious. The three agents started to get to work, but Olivia burst out laughing when she noticed a certain redhead walk in and scan the room.

"What?" Charlie said.

"Charlie, don't look behind you. Maybe she won't notice you're here."

"Oh no. Is it Bug Girl?" he asked in dread, burying his face in a file.

She nodded, trying to suppress her laughter.

Charlie closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration. "Why won't she leave me alone?"

"The girl's in love with you," Lincoln taunted.

"Who could blame her? Nobody can resist that cute little face," Olivia teased, pinching Charlie's cheek just to annoy him. It was true, though. He didn't show it often because of the seriousness of their job, but Charlie did have a really sweet smile.

"Guys, please just tell me she's leaving," Charlie groaned.

Olivia checked. "Nope, she's still looking for you."

"I'll go and send her away," Lincoln offered.

"Thanks, man."

Lincoln winked at Olivia and stood, heading over to Bug Girl. "Hi. You're Mona, right? The girl from forensics?"

"Right."

"You're looking for Charlie?"

"Yeah, is he here?"

This was the part where Lincoln was supposed to say Charlie was out for lunch or something, but instead he smiled and said, "Yep, he's right over there."

Hearing this, Olivia burst out laughing and Charlie's jaw dropped. He threw a quick glare at Lincoln as Bug Girl came over to their desks. "Hi Charlie!" she exclaimed, beaming.

"Uhh…hi."

"Sorry to bother you, I know how busy you must be with work."

"Can I help you with something?"

"You could help me with a lot of things," she replied with an eyebrow wiggle. She was smiling like she was plotting evil things in her head.

Charlie gulped. "Uh…something work related?"

"I took it upon myself to bring these files over from the lab for you."

"Oh. Thank you."

"And I got you a snack. You work so hard and I wanted to make sure you had enough energy to get through the day," she said sweetly, handing him a paper bag from the café down the road.

"Thanks, but that really wasn't necessary."

"Don't mention it. Charlie, if you need anything at all just call me and I'll be right over. You have my card, right?"

"Yeah, I've got it."

"Awesome. Well, I hope I'll get to see you again soon."

"Honestly I'm really busy, and I'm sure you're busy at the lab, too -"

"Of course, you're job comes before your personal life. I totally understand. But I'm sure you can find time for me somewhere."

"Listen, Mona, I'm sorry but I'm just not interested. I really thought I'd made that clear. I told you, I'm a married guy."

Mona shrugged. "Lots of guys are married."

"I'm happily married."

"Somehow I doubt that. It's not like I ever see your wife in here visiting you. She must be kind of dumb to not want to be around a guy like you."

That got on Charlie's nerves. "Hey, that's enough. My wife is perfect, thank you very much, and we're very happy together."

"And he has a daughter," Olivia piped in. "Lucy. She's six months old."

"Excuse me, but I don't believe you were ever part of this conversation, so why don't you keep your mouth shut, lady," Bug Girl snapped at Olivia, who just struggled to suppress her laughter and went back to work. "And you listen to me, Charlie Francis! If you are too stupid to realise what you're missing out on then I'll go find someone else who appreciates what I do for them! I can't believe I ever wasted my time with you! I'm leaving!"

"Fine by me," he said, sitting back in his chair.

Bug Girl huffed and blinked away tears, glaring at Charlie and Olivia before storming off. Lincoln waved to her as she left. "Always a pleasure to see you, Mona!"

Olivia couldn't hold back her laughter anymore and Lincoln was the same. "Did you seriously just make Bug Girl cry?"

"What? She wasn't taking the hint! And Lincoln, I was gonna kill you for sending her over but you just did me a huge favour. You are so my favourite person today." He opened the snack bag Mona gave him and tossed it to Lincoln. "Here, have a cupcake for your efforts."

Lincoln smirked and took a bite. "Mmmm, yummy. Maybe I should date her. She has good taste in snacks."

"Nothing says 'I love you' like a delicious baked good," Olivia teased. "Would've been better if she baked it herself, though – with 'Charlie' written in icing on top. Now that would be sentimental."

"Enough, Olivia," said Charlie. "From what Broyles tells us, I'm not the only one with a stalker."

"Oh, yeah, Liv, we heard about Jones' little crush on you," Lincoln teased. "Jones and Olivia sitting in a tree, K-I-S-"

"Shut up, Lincoln! It's not a crush, it's a weird little deranged obsession. The guy's nuts."

Charlie pulled out a photo of Jones from a file and grimaced. "He looks creepy."

"Pedo face," Lincoln agreed in between munches of his cupcake. "Clearly a registered sex offender."

"You really think he might be after you, Livvy?" Charlie asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

"We're not assuming anything yet. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"He's probably not even here," said Lincoln. "I mean, if I could teleport my way out of prison I wouldn't come to Boston."

"Where would you go?"

"I dunno. That's not the point."

"If I could teleport I'd be somewhere exotic on a beach sipping a mojito right now." Charlie sighed. "That'd be nice."

"Seriously though, Liv," Lincoln said. "Are you worried?"

"No. Why should I be?"

"Uhh…because a terrorist drew 40 pictures of you in jail and then escaped, perhaps?" Charlie suggested.

"Look, it's creepy, I get it. But I met the guy once. I'm willing to bet he didn't get many visitors in prison, maybe that's what it is. He has no reason to want to hurt me. Plus I'm surrounded by FBI agents and a very protective husband all day. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

"I think you're right," said Lincoln. "No use worrying until we actually know he's here. Besides, if he was we'd look after you, wouldn't we Charlie?"

"Amen."

"Thanks, guys," she said sincerely. The part of her that was actually worried felt just a little comforted by their humour and loyalty. Charlie and Lincoln never failed to cheer her up.

"OK people, naptime's over!" Broyles shouted to the whole department from his office. "We've got a warrant for a raid on a warehouse in Allston. Let's go!"

The agents all grabbed their stuff and went downstairs to the locker rooms to get changed into their raid gear. They only had a few minutes to get ready and everyone was rushing. Olivia was still trying to tie the shoelaces on her boots when Lincoln tapped her on the shoulder. "Liv, we have to go."

"Give me a second." She pulled her phone from her pocket but Lincoln shook his head.

"Liv, call him from the truck," he said gently. "Come on."

She sighed and followed him and Charlie out of the locker room and downstairs to the truck to be taken to the raid site. Almost every agent in there pulled out their phones to call somebody. Olivia called Peter and was relieved when he finally picked up after a few rings.

"Hey, Livia," Peter said quickly, panting.

"You OK? You sound distracted."

"Sorry, just give me a sec – Walter! Put that down!" There was some kind of commotion she couldn't decipher on the other end but Peter eventually came back to the phone.

"Everything OK?"

She heard Peter breathe a sigh of relief on the other end. "Yeah, just Walter being Walter. I think things are under control for now. What's up?"

"Uh, Broyles is sending us to raid what we hope is a ZFT lab, so I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks, sweetheart. You be careful, OK?"

"Peter, I'm always careful. You know my job is dangerous, there's going to be a risk no matter what I do."

"I know. Just come home. The last thing I want is to lose my beautiful wife."

"I will," she said, smiling. That had become his latest nickname for her – _my beautiful wife_. In almost four months she still hadn't quite gotten used to it. "I'll be back for dinner, maybe we can go out?"

"Sounds nice. It's a date."

"Great. See you soon, Peter. I love you."

"I love you, too. Keep safe."

"I will," she said, hanging up. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. Most of the other agents were trying to prepare themselves or speak to friends and family. She could vaguely hear Charlie next to her speaking to Sonya.

"Yeah, I know, babe… I'll be home soon. Give Lucy a kiss from Daddy… I love you, too. See you tonight."

Olivia and Lincoln "Aaawwwww"ed at Charlie as he hung up and he rolled his eyes.

"How is Lucy, by the way?" Olivia asked him.

"Crawling like crazy. You can't take her eyes off her for a second or she'll just disappear. She thinks it's funny when you can't find her, but it's scary as hell for whoever's looking after her. She's a cheeky kid - always up to no good."

"Just wait till she's a teenager," Lincoln teased. The expression on his face turned to mock horror. "She'll be sneaking out the window to hook up with some guy…Oh no, what if she starts dating a stoner and drops out of high school…or runs away with him to get married…or gets pregnant!"

"That's enough, Lincoln!" Olivia scolded him. "Don't scare the poor guy, he's just a new dad."

"Yeah, do not even go there, man. My daughter's not dating anyone ever. I'll lock her in the basement if I have to."

"Why not?" Olivia asked, chuckling at his paranoia.

"Hey, I was a teenage guy once. I know how they think. So if some kid from math class or whatever wants to date my princess, then he's gonna have to get through me first. That's all I'm saying."

"Well, she's only six months old, so hopefully you'll relax enough to let the poor girl have a life by the time she hits that stage."

"Never gonna happen," Charlie chuckled, but they knew he was exaggerating. Charlie was already proving himself to be a great father – he simply adored Lucy, and his wife. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the two most important girls in his world.

"We don't know what to expect anymore on these raids, do we?" Lincoln said after a small silence, his tone dark and serious.

"I know what you mean," Charlie replied. "Job isn't what it was ten years ago. You've got biochemical terrorists fighting wars over supposed alternate universes… I mean, it just - just wasn't part of my training, you know? I mean, how are we supposed to fight these people? Truth is, this makes me feel obsolete, you know?"

The others just nodded and waited. The truck started to slow and they all prepared themselves to head out into the warehouse. A couple of the guys said a quick prayer or took a moment to calm themselves. The raids had been getting harder and harder in recent years since ZFT became more active. They never knew what creepy science-fiction weapon they'd come across.

The truck came to a halt and Olivia braced herself, drawing her service weapon and following the others silently into the cold night air. There was nobody around for miles – just a string of warehouses in the middle of some old abandoned buildings and vacant lots. The agents started flicking on their torches, sparking dots of glowing white in the darkness. Silently they split into teams, following their leaders to various entrances to the main warehouse. The only sound Olivia could hear was her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her palms were sweaty. She loved the challenge of the raids but they had never stopped being scary.

Her team went through each room, clearing it and finding no suspects. What they did find was rooms and rooms of experiments, lab equipment and screeching lab animals. "I want everything bagged and tagged!" Charlie announced in his quintessential FBI voice.

They started sorting through the equipment when there was shuffling sound somewhere down the hall. Olivia whipped around to see a suspect trying to escape. Lincoln saw him too. They both started running. Olivia heard Charlie behind her as her feet pounded the concrete floor, the sound echoing off the walls. The man disappeared round a corner, then down some stairs. He was heading outside. After a while they'd lost him. "Liv, go out the back!" Lincoln shouted. "Charlie, take the right, I'll go left."

She nodded and sprinted along the corridors until she ran through a door, heading back outside into the cold. She saw a flash of movement in one of the vacant lots behind the warehouse and ran after it. There was frost on the ground. She slipped. She ran so hard she got stitches in her stomach and felt like her heart was pumping acid, but she pushed through the pain. The man turned a corner and she followed him to end up in an old graveyard.

Panting, she stopped and scanned the gravestones, some of them large enough to hide behind. Cautious, she raised her weapon and torch, treading through the overgrown grass. "FBI! Show yourself!" she called out, but got no answer. Straining her ears for any sound, all she could hear was her own shaky breath.

And then she was grabbed. Thrown against a wall. He wrestled for her gun. Instinctively she squeezed the trigger but it missed. He knocked it from her hands, sending it bouncing in the weeds somewhere to her right. They struggled. He backhanded her across the face and she tasted something metallic in her mouth. She fought hard, hit him, made him bleed. But he was bigger, stronger. He hit her again and she fell to the ground. He kicked her in the stomach. Hard. Then he did it again. She tried to get up. "Stay down!" he growled at her, and she felt another blow strike her side. She took a panicked heap of air inside her chest in between kicks. Coughed as she struggled to breathe. She lost count of how many times he kicked her. She felt herself start to black out.

"STOP! FBI!"

Even though she was barely conscious, she knew the voice was Charlie's. The man stopped kicking her and made a run for it. Olivia heard a gunshot, then the man groaning and collapsing.

"Move and the next one won't be in your leg, buddy," Charlie called to the man, his gun still aimed. There was silence for a moment. She felt Charlie's hand on her forehead. "Livvy, can you hear me?"

"Uh-huh," she whimpered.

He grabbed his radio. "Agent down, I need immediate medical assistance in the graveyard behind the warehouse. Suspect is apprehended, also in need of treatment for a GSW to the right leg."

Olivia cried out and curled into a ball, cradling herself and seething through her tears.

"You OK? Livvy, what did he do?"

"He kicked me," she groaned. "Charlie, it hurts."

"I know, Livvy. They'll have to check you for internal bleeding but you're gonna be alright. You did well, kiddo. Just hang in there."

"Peter…"

"I'll call him on the way to the hospital, OK? He can meet us there. Shhh, Livvy. Just relax."

She tried to stay awake, but eventually the pain was too much. She vaguely heard Charlie say "You're gonna be fine", but after that she just couldn't hold on anymore.

**Please review, lovely readers! **


	3. Hurt

**References: "for being my friend" (Olivia), "letting people help you" (Night of Desirable Objects), "I failed" (Jacksonville)**

Everything was white. Olivia's beeping heart rate rang out in an echo that split her head wide open. Almost everything was numb, but what little she could feel hurt like hell. Her eyelids fluttered open and heard someone mutter, "She's awake".

Her head was foggy. It took her a while to place the voice but she turned her head to see a doctor beside her, checking her over. "Agent Dunham, can you hear me?"

She nodded. Her throat was too tight and dry for her to speak. Pulling herself to sit up, she cringed at the dull pain radiating through her body, which seemed to wake her a little. She drank some water. Everything started to come back to her.

"How bad was it?" she asked the doctors, her voice groggy.

They began a jargon-filled medical explanation of her injuries. They explained the impact of her assailant's strikes on her body, the treatment she was given in the ambulance and the procedures carried out once she got to the hospital. She couldn't understand the specifics of what they were telling her, but she understood enough. They told her that there would be no permanent damage. She would recover soon. Trauma psychologists were available at the FBI if she needed to talk about the incident. They told her all of this, but she still felt sick to her stomach. It felt like they were just brushing it off. They talked in their super intellectual medical lingo but they didn't understand what was going through her head. They didn't understand how scared she had been, or how worried she was now trying to figure out how on earth she was going to explain this to her protective husband.

She looked around. Peter wasn't there. "My husband…"

"We've been told he's on his way. But the agent who called the ambulance for you is here – Charlie Francis. Would you like us to send him in?"

She swallowed, running a hand down her face and nodding. One of the nurses went to get him and when Charlie saw her, he softened. "Could we have some privacy please?" he asked the doctors, and Olivia sent him a grateful look as they all left.

He gave her his trademark reassuring smile and came over to sit beside her, holding her hand. "How are you feeling, Livvy?"

She swallowed. "I'll be fine." Her voice was weaker than she needed it to be, barely above a whisper. "They're letting me go tomorrow."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

He exhaled and gently squeezed her hand. "Livvy, I'm really sorry about what happened. I should have gotten there sooner."

"Don't apologise. It wasn't your fault," she said softly. Suddenly she couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears began to well in her eyes. "It was mine."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked. "That guy came out of nowhere, and you did the best you could -"

She just shook her head and tried to fight her tears. "No Charlie. You don't get it. It was my fault."

"What was your fault?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Charlie…" She covered her face with a shaking hand, trying to keep herself together. But between her pain, exhaustion and trauma of the day, she couldn't help the tears. She felt his strong hand rub her back soothingly as she curled into a ball to cradle herself.

"Livvy, whatever it is, you can tell me."

She lifted her face and smiled wryly through her tears. Part of her wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation, while the rest of her just wanted to cry or go to sleep. "Peter's gonna kill me."

"No he won't. He loves you, and so do I. So it's OK. You can tell me anything."

She nodded, still weeping. Somehow she managed to look at him, holding his hand tight.

"Charlie, I was pregnant."

She could see it – the exact moment when her friend's heart broke for her. "My God, Livvy. I'm so sorry."

"You wanna know what's really stupid?" she asked with a sardonic laugh. "I didn't even know. I had no idea until the doctors told me I lost it in the ambulance. I mean, I noticed I was late but that happens sometimes, with the stress of work. I didn't think much of it. It never crossed my mind that I could possibly be pregnant. And if I'd known, I wouldn't have gone on that raid – there's no way you guys or Broyles or Peter would have let me. I just… I should have noticed. And because I didn't…"

"Livvy, you didn't cause this. Don't blame yourself."

"He's never gonna forgive me."

"Who?"

"Peter. If I was still pregnant I would have been freaking out, but he… Oh, Charlie, he would have been so happy."

Charlie nodded, sighing and giving her a warm, comforting hug. "Livvy, this wasn't your fault. You were doing your job to save lives and some asshole who didn't even know you decided to kick you in the stomach till you blacked out. That's why you lost your baby. It's his fault. Not yours. Peter has nothing to forgive you for."

He felt her trembling and pulled back to study her expression. She looked so nervous. "This'll kill him, Charlie. He'll go nuts."

"Yeah, he might. He has every reason to be angry, and so do you. You've lost something priceless, Livvy. That's worth getting angry about."

"I don't know how to tell him."

"There is no right way to say it. You just have to be honest and say how you feel. But don't worry, Liv. He's going to be there for you, even though he'll be just as upset as you are. Try not to be scared, OK?"

She nodded stoically, wiping her face and taking a deep breath.

"Do you want me to stay with you, when you tell him? As you know by now I'm an excellent hand-holder," he joked with soft smile. "Or I can call Rachael for you?"

Even with everything going on, she couldn't help but smile faintly back. "Thank you, but no. I need to do this on my own. And I'm not ready to tell Rachael."

"That's OK. You don't have to say anything you don't want to. But you might want to give Sonya a call. To be personal with you, she and I went through a couple of miscarriages ourselves before we had Lucy last year. She knows what it's like, I guess. And I'll be happy to talk to Peter."

"I'm sure that'd help. Thanks."

"He should be here by now. Do you want me to get him for you?"

"Yes please. And could you tell Broyles and Lincoln for me? They're gonna want to give me some time off and don't think I can handle telling anyone else today."

"Sure thing."

"Thank you so much Charlie."

He smiled. "For what?"

"For being me friend."

"Anytime, Livvy. If you need anything you know where to find me." He gave her one last hug and left to go find Peter.

The moments of waiting were agonising for Olivia. She had no idea what to say. She was just as shocked about all this as anyone. She knew that as soon as Peter came in he'd want to fight with her like he always did about how she put herself in danger. Trying to brace herself, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop crying, furiously wiping her face. Eventually there was a creak at the door and her head snapped up.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey."

As he saw the bruises on her skin, he shook his head, exhaling. He rushed over and held her tight, his hug almost smothering her. "Damn it, Olivia. I told you to be careful," he scolded, concern and harshness biting through his voice. "We've fought about this a hundred times before. You can't keep putting yourself in harm's way like this. What the hell happened? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Don't," she whimpered. "Not now, Peter. I can't take it." He felt her shaking in his arms like she was going to explode. Pulling back, he saw tears hanging in her eyes as she struggled to calm herself.

He softened, running a hand over his face. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. You just really scared me." He tenderly pulled her to him and touched her face, cradling her in his arms. "Livia, are you OK?"

To his surprise, she shook her head. "No. I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

She gulped. "Peter you have to promise not to hate me. Can you do that?"

He pulled back so he could see the hurt in her eyes, confusion displayed in his own. "Hate you. Why would I hate you?"

She was silent, looking away.

"Sweetheart, I know there's something big going on here, but I also know you're no good at letting people help you. So please, sweetheart, just tell me. I love you and I'm here no matter what."

Olivia was shaking furiously, unable to speak. Not knowing what else to do, he just held her and waited until she was ready to explain. "Peter…" she started, her voice broken with tears. "On the raid, we were chasing this guy and…he caught me off guard. I tried to fight, but soon enough I was on the ground and he was kicking me over and over…He kicked me so hard. He wouldn't stop. Charlie shot him in the leg and helped me, but I blacked out before the ambulance got there."

She could feel the anger in him start to rise up, and she prayed it wasn't at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "That must have been awful. I know I got mad before but like you said on the phone earlier, we both know your work has risks. You were just trying to do your job, Livia."

She shook her head. "Just let me talk. Please. There's more you need to hear."

"OK. Sorry." Olivia wrapped her arms tighter around his middle, burying her face against his shoulder. She felt him rubbing her back in circles, over and over. "Livia, whatever it is, it's going to be OK."

"No," she whimpered. "No it's not."

"Sweetheart, listen to me. I'm sure this is horrible for you right now but if there's something I need to know so I can help you, please tell me."

"I'm trying. It's just so hard."

"I know, sweetheart."

"I'm worried about what you'll say," she confessed in a whisper.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling back to look her in the eye. "Never be scared of me. I'd hate to give you a reason to be nervous. I'm not perfect, and I won't always do the right things Olivia, but I can try. I'll always try and do my best to help you, but for me to do that you need to talk to me. Just…when you're ready."

She took a breath and tried to relax just a little as he gently rocked her in bed like she was a small child. She loved Peter, but right now his touch was of little comfort to her. She knew any minute now she'd be breaking his heart. It was unavoidable. For a moment she wondered if she could get away with never telling him – he'd be happier if he never knew the truth. But she knew that wasn't fair to him. It especially wasn't fair to the child they'd lost.

"I don't remember much," she finally said. "I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I was in a lot of pain. The ambulance brought me here and they treated me. I woke up and the doctors…" Her words caught in her throat and she shook her head.

"Go on, sweetheart. It's OK."

She felt him kiss her hair and hold her tight, and somehow that small gesture gave her the strength to keep going. "And the doctors…the doctors told me everything that happened and what they had to do to treat my injuries. They told me I was pregnant and-"

"What?" he asked suddenly, his voice soft. His eyes drifted down to her stomach. "Oh my God, Livia. Is it… are you two OK?"

She trembled at the question and pulled back to face him, gently cupping his face and looking him in the eye. "No, Peter," she said softly. "The doctors told me I _was_ pregnant."

His eyes went wide as it dawned on him. "Oh my God," he choked.

She couldn't help crying then. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. It was too early. If I knew I would never have -"

"It's not your fault," he said, cutting her off. Anger was vibrating through him, she could feel it. "I'll kill him," he spat. "I'll fucking kill that son of a bitch."

"Peter, please," she wept. "I can't handle you being this way right now."

He gritted his teeth and tried to even his breathing, forcing himself to stay calm and comfort his wife. But then he broke himself and the tears came, slight and bitter, reddening the edges of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

They held each other for a long time, both of them weeping and shaking. They had found out about falling pregnant and losing the baby all on the same day. They had no time to enjoy it, or celebrate or be happy, not even for a little while. They hadn't even planned on getting pregnant. They had agreed to wait a couple of years before they thought more seriously about having kids. It was insane and heartbreaking to think that they'd had a child for a few weeks and neither of them knew it.

"It's gonna be OK, sweetheart," Peter finally said, kissing her hair. "We'll try again…We'll have another one, I promise."

Olivia shook her head. "I would have been bad at it anyway."

"What?"

"Being a parent."

He sighed, holding her close. "Livia, we both know that's not true. You're always wonderful with Ella and Lucy. I know it was fast, but we would have worked it out."

Olivia let out a shaky breath. "You would have been so happy."

Peter nodded solemnly. "How far along were you?" he asked gently.

"They said only 5 or 6 weeks. I didn't even know until they told me that I'd lost it. I'm so sorry. It's my fault. It was my job to look after this baby. And I failed," she whimpered, sniffling. "I failed and I was supposed to be the one who could stop things like this."

"Shhh…" he whispered as he kept rocking her. "None of that. It wasn't your fault. It's his. He took this away from us."

He said that to her a hundred times but he couldn't convince her. That was so like her – always placing the blame on herself, putting the weight of the world on her shoulders. She seemed inconsolable.

"We're gonna get through this, Olivia," he swore to her. "We will. One day we'll be parents. I promise."

Lying in his arms, she really, really wished she could believe that. She hoped that one day she would accept that she wasn't to blame but she couldn't right now. Not tonight.

**Please review, even though the chap was sad : (**


	4. Fine

**References: telling Rachael (What Lies Below), "please don't dream tonight" (Dream Logic), the body (Ability)**

**A few lines were paraphrased from the 2011 movie 'Trust'. Hasn't come out in Australia yet but I can't wait to see it. It's about the topic of young teens being groomed by paedophiles on the internet – an important and growing problem in our society. Definitely check it out. **

"Women are complicated," a slightly drunk Peter announced to Charlie.

"Thanks for the revelation."

"I'm serious. They're insane."

"You don't have to tell me that. I'm married too, remember?"

Peter chuckled as he took another sip of his beer. He and Charlie were out after work talking through some stuff. Peter generally wasn't the kind of guy to open up about things, but Charlie had always been an unwavering rock of trust for both him and Olivia.

"Olivia won't talk about what happened," he finally confessed. "I'm trying so hard, but I just don't know how to help her. She's my wife. I should know what to do, but I don't."

"How is she?" Charlie asked.

"Hard to tell. Ever since she got out of hospital she's slipped back into her 'I'm fine' phase."

"Ah."

"I don't know what to say to her," he confessed. "She won't let me in. The doctor's said that her hormones would be all over the place and she'd struggle with this emotionally, but she hasn't cried or wanted to talk about it or anything. It's like she's ignoring it, trying to move on by pretending it's not a big deal or that it never happened."

"Maybe you just have to give her time."

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you help Sonya when she went through this?"

Charlie shrugged solemnly. "Our situation was very different. Ours was a planned pregnancy, we were really excited, we'd told our parents and then we lost it. Sonya was a mess. Hell, I was a mess. When you find out your wife's pregnant you're so happy the last thing on your mind is the possibility of something going wrong. I guess all we did was talk and be there for each other. It was hard for us, sure, but we kept trying, and now we have Lucy so I guess that's all that matters."

"You guys are a beautiful family, you know that?" Peter said earnestly. "You're a lucky guy."

"That's what my wife keeps telling me," Charlie joked. "No, I'm very grateful. But you guys will get through this too. Marriage is hard work, but you do it because you love each other. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but you and Olivia will be happy again. Happier than you've ever been, even."

"I hope so."

"Is there anything I can do to help Olivia?"

Peter nodded. "She goes back to work tomorrow, so who knows how that's gonna go." Peter sighed. "I know this kind of goes against your nature, but when Olivia goes in tomorrow, can you treat her like this never happened?"

"But it did happen, Peter. She had a miscarriage. That's not something a woman can just get over, even her."

"I know, but the worst thing we can do for Olivia right now is walk on eggshells around her or really try to comfort her. She hates it. We just need to be there for her if she needs it but not smother her by asking if she's OK every five seconds. You know?"

"Sure, I'll do my best. But what about you?"

"Huh?"

"Everyone keeps asking about Olivia. How are you going?"

"Me? I'm fine. I just need to figure out how to help her, that's all."

Charlie chuckled. "OK, I always knew you two were meant for each other but now I'm officially convinced."

"What are you talking about, Charlie?"

"Really? 'I'm fine?' You know that's her line, right?"

Peter smiled wryly and took another sip. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Charlie's smile faded. "Listen…I know the focus is on Olivia right now but you lost a kid too. Don't overlook that. You can talk to me if you want, man. I've been there. I know how hard it is."

Peter took pause then. He'd been suffering in silence about this since it happened. Olivia had tried to make sure he was OK but he would always pretend he was fine to support her. They were identical in that way. Peter clenched his fist around his beer bottle as he sighed, trying to take the chaos of his thoughts and put it all into words.

"You know the first thing that went through my head when she told me the pregnancy even occurred? The very first thing? I thought, "Shit. This is way too fast. How are we gonna handle this?" And then my next thought was, "No, wait. We're gonna be parents. This is incredible." And then she told me that because that son of a bitch kicked the shit out of her when she was trying to arrest him, we lost it. And I thought "Why, why would he do that? He didn't even know us. What did we do to him?" I had all of four or five seconds to absorb the fact that my wife was pregnant and then she told me it was gone. It was over before we even got started. I mean, we never got the chance to get excited or be happy about it. I dunno, maybe it's easier this way. I'm sure it hurt a lot more for you and Sonya – knowing for a while and telling people only to have it all fall to pieces. But we have someone to blame. I don't know if that's better or worse. The fact that a person caused this…that someone deliberately hurt my wife so badly that our baby died… It makes me sick, Charlie. It really does."

Charlie just nodded, listening as a friend listens.

"Broyles said they were able to up the guy's charges because of the miscarriage, so he'll serve more time in prison now," Peter muttered.

"But…"

Peter shook his head. "It's not enough, Charlie." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You know, I had this dream last night. I had a guy on the ground. I've never seen him before in my life but somehow I knew that he was the son of a bitch who did this to us. I was beating him to shit. It felt good, but it was horrifying too, to see that violence in myself. I was hitting him and hitting him and I couldn't stop. He was bleeding so much I could taste his blood in my mouth. When Olivia woke me up I could still taste it. Then I found that I'd actually chewed the inside of my cheek in my sleep – it was my own blood I was tasting. But for a moment I had him. It was so real, Charlie. It felt so real."

Charlie just put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, exhaling solemnly. "The truth is, Peter, this is one of those things in your life that is never going to be OK," Charlie admitted. "This guy can go to jail forever and it still won't reverse what happened. You could kill him with your bare hands and it wouldn't change a thing. Nothing's ever gonna make it right. That's a hard truth to swallow, I know. One of the worst things about it when it happened to me was that confusion and hurt – that obsession with thinking up ways you could have stopped it, that inability to find a reason _why_, but… I guess all you can do is accept that it did happen, and that it was beyond your control, but what happens next is something you can control. You can control how you deal with it, how you help your wife pick herself up. That's where your focus needs to be now. If you keep going back and trying to make it right, you'll only torture yourself. It's always gonna be a hurt in your life. But it does get easier. I promise, as someone who's been there, it does."

Peter nodded, smiling faintly. "Thanks for the talk," Peter said, clinking his bottle with Charlie's and downing the rest of his beer. "But I really need to get home to Olivia."

"Good luck with her. I hope she comes around soon."

"Yeah, me too. Thanks a lot, Charlie," he said as he left.

"And Peter?" Charlie called after him, and he turned back.

"Yeah?"

"The worst part's over."

Peter just nodded knowingly and left the bar to go home to his wife. He found Olivia sitting in bed, hugging her knees and picking nervously at her fingernails. "Hey," he greeted as he started undressing for bed.

"Hey."

He climbed into bed and took her hand to stop her fidgeting, pulling her to lie down with him and giving her a gentle smile. "You couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head.

Tucking some hair behind her ear, he kissed her softly. "Are you nervous?"

"No," she replied, but he knew it was a half-truth. "I want to go back to work. Sitting around the house all day has been agony, so… I really do want to go back."

"But…"

She shook her head.

"Olivia, nobody knows about what happened except me, Lincoln, Charlie and Broyles. That's what you wanted, right?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "You haven't told Walter, have you?"

"No. I think we can both agree that he'd never let it go if he knew, and neither of us need that right now. But I'll tell him if you want me to."

"No, don't. I think it's better this way."

He sighed and kissed her hair. "Livia, how are you feeling? About what happened, I mean…"

She forced a small smile. "Peter, I told you, I'm fine."

"Olivia, this has been awful for both of us. I want to make sure you're dealing with this in a good way."

"Peter, I've told you, I don't want to talk about it. Please respect that."

"I do respect it, but I also want good for you. If you don't want to talk to me, that's OK, but talking to someone else about what happened might help you. I just talked to Charlie and he was really great about it all. Maybe it'd help if you gave Sonya a call."

"Peter, I don't need help," she tried to assure him. "I'm going back to work tomorrow, and I'm ready."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell Rachael?"

"I'm sure."

"Livia, she's your sister."

Olivia smiled wryly, shaking her head. "She just went through all that stuff hearing about me being in the hospital and she's still having nightmares about me being hurt or killed on a raid. What's the point in scaring her again?" Olivia sighed and snuggled closer to him, resting against his chest. The sensation and sound of his heartbeat always lulled her into a place of calm and refuge.

"That's just like you," he said with the same wry smile. "Even now you're protecting her." She didn't say anything to that, just lowered her eyes. "Hey," he murmured to her, kissing her hair. "It's gonna be OK at work tomorrow. Come by the lab if you want, we can get lunch."

"OK."

He just held her for a while, kissing her softly. His touch was comforting rather than demanding, which she appreciated. Rolling onto her back, she allowed him to deepen the kiss, her fingers drawing patterns on his shoulder blades. But when his fingers edged beneath her shirt, smoothing over the skin of her stomach as he always liked to do, she flinched and shuddered.

He withdrew his hand immediately, realising she still had bruises. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, but quickly pulled her shirt back down to cover her stomach. He realised then that she wasn't in pain but that she was ashamed, embarrassed by her bruises and the reminders they brought. It was true – Olivia was almost disgusted by her stomach now. To her it was not only bruised, but a barren, dead place.

"Hey," he whispered again, making her look at him. "We're going to get through this."

"I know."

He smiled softly, and she could feel his eyes adoring her. "You're so beautiful, Olivia," he said earnestly, kissing her and moving slowly down her body. "Every inch of you," he murmured against her skin. He gently kissed her stomach, wishing in some childish way that he could literally kiss it better.

"I love you," he said softly to her, making his way back up her body and wiping a bit of hair out of her face. "You know that, right?"

She nodded. "I love you too."

He kissed her. "Let's try and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

Olivia nodded again and wriggled a little in his arms to get comfortable. He waited, watching her rest against his chest until he was sure that she was asleep. Kissing her forehead, he closed his own eyes and began whispering the mantra he learned as a boy. "Please don't dream tonight. Please don't dream tonight…."

But once again, the nightmares came anyway.

* * *

><p>Olivia knew as she and Lincoln drove over to their latest crime scene that it would be an awkward car ride. So far her first morning back at work had been OK, but she still felt insecure about how much attention people were paying to her now that she was back. She didn't want to be treated differently because of what happened on the raid, so she did her best to work hard and crack jokes with the guys like always. She forced herself to smile so much it hurt. All she wanted was to move on with her life.<p>

"Liv…" Lincoln started. She knew where this was going. "Are you alr-"

"Don't even finish that sentence, Lincoln. Please."

He nodded soberly. "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault."

"Maybe it is."

She chuckled wryly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"When we lost that guy, on the raid, we split up in three directions. I can't help but think if I'd gone that way instead of you things would have turned out differently."

"Yeah, you would have gotten your ass kicked," she joked. "Face it, I beat you in hand-to-hand every year in those refresher courses we have to do. If I couldn't take that guy then you would have come off worse."

"It would have been worth it."

She shook her head. "There's nothing we can do about it now. It wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours either. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," she muttered, but it wasn't convincing. He gave her a look saying so. "Lincoln, I promise I'm fine."

"Whatever you say, Liv."

They met Charlie, Broyles, Walter and Peter at the crime scene. She greeted Peter with the usual head nod she gave everyone else. Broyles had made it very clear to them when they got married that when they were at work they were no more than colleagues in the field. "What happened?" she asked Broyles.

He silently gestured over to a body that was lying in a roped off area of the street. As they walked over to it, Peter jogged over and nudged her. "Good to be back?" he whispered.

She just smiled softly in response. "Can we talk about it tonight?" she asked, wanting to wait till later to explain the whirlwind that was her day.

"Sure," he said, sneaking in a stroke to the small of her back before quickly putting his hands in his pockets so Broyles wouldn't see.

"Thomas Avery," Broyles said, leaning over the body. The man was faceless, his eyes, nose and mouth all covered in skin. "He ran a news stand on this street. Witnesses say his whole face closed up in less than a minute until he suffocated."

"Ceramides," Walter mumbled, examining the body. "They act as a signalling molecule in the skin. They control how the cells grow and differentiate."

"So you think some kind of chemical weapon might have put these molecules into overdrive?"

"It's possible."

Charlie walked over to Olivia. "You know what this is," he said seriously.

"You think it's Jones?"

"Public attack, broad daylight, random target – this is exactly ZFT's MO."

"That's not enough. It could be anyone in ZFT, not necessarily Jones."

"Liv," Lincoln called to her as he inspected the body. "Come take a look at this."

Olivia gave Charlie a look before walking over to Lincoln, who handed her a folded piece of paper.

She opened it and immediately scrunched it shut. "Where did you find this?" she snapped at him.

"Dead guy's pocket."

"Livia, what is it?"

"Agent Dunham?"

She reluctantly handed the paper to Broyles, who opened it up to find another drawing of Olivia, just like the others Jones had done. "Dunham, did you know Avery at all?"

"No, I've never met him."

Broyles exhaled and folded up the paper, looking to Olivia and Peter. "I'm putting a protective detail by your apartment tonight."

"Sir -"

"Don't argue with me, Dunham."

"Do you honestly think he's after me?"

"I believe it's a possibility, and I'm not taking any chances. You're off this case, Dunham."

"What?" she almost yelled. "That's not fair, I'm one of your best agents in this unit."

"Exactly. That's why I need to keep you safe. We'll keep you posted but you can't be investigating a case where you are potentially a target. You can work on other ZFT crimes until this is over."

"But -"

"Enough, Dunham. There'll be a detail by your house by the time you get back. Now go home. Both of you."

Olivia gritted her teeth and walked off, Peter following close behind. "Olivia," he called after her.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

She scoffed bitterly. "No you're not. This is what you wanted isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're always talking about me not being careful enough, especially about Jones. You wanted me off field work, you wanted me under a detail. Well now you've got it. I hope you're happy, Peter."

"Olivia all I wanted was for us to be safe, especially you."

"We are never gonna be safe, Peter!" she shouted at him. "We are up against people who can fry your brain with a computer virus, or make your skin melt, or make slugs climb out of your throat. We are always going to be in danger from people like that. We can't run and hide every time we come across anything remotely scary."

"This isn't just another case, you know that. Jones seems to have an interest in you. You can't argue with that."

"I know, but there are other ways to attack this. If I was on the team, if I was helping-"

"I want you to be helping as much as you do, but that choice isn't up to us. It's just not. Me and the others are gonna do everything we can and we'll keep you involved with whatever evidence we find. But right now our focus has to be keeping you safe."

"If Jones is trying to scare me and then we go under protective detail like this, he wins. Don't you get that? He's only going to get some sick satisfaction out of this."

"Yeah, but don't you think it's worth it? I know it really sucks for both of us, but if it helps, if it keeps us both safe, then we have to just take it in our stride." He stepped a little closer to her and cupped her face in both hands, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Olivia I love you so, so much. And if anything happened to you, it would kill me. You know that. So please Olivia. I'm not a man who begs but I'm begging you as your husband who loves you, please, please do this for me. I love you too much to see you hurt. And if you love me like you say you do, you'll agree to this to keep us both safe from this son of a bitch. OK? _Please_."

Olivia sighed in reluctance and leaned into his touch, resting her forehead against his. "Just get me away from here," she muttered, trying to hide the tears that were hanging in her eyes.

As Peter drove them home, he couldn't help but steal glances of Olivia every time he could. She was cradling herself, staring out the window. "Livia…" he murmured, trying to comfort her from whatever thoughts were running through her head.

"Don't," she whimpered, failing to hide the tears in her voice.

He pulled over, stopping the car and turning to look at her. "Livia, I know you're not fine. After losing the baby and now Jones, nobody expects you to be. I'm not fine either. But please talk to me. It's OK to cry," he said softly, stroking her hair.

She covered her face with a shaking hand and started sobbing uncontrollably. While it broke his heart to see her like this, he was glad she was finally allowing herself to feel the gravity of what had happened. "Oh Livi," he whispered, holding her close and letting her bawl into his chest.

"It's not fair," she sobbed, her whole body shaking.

"I know, sweetheart," he choked, tears welling in his own eyes.

"We were happy. It's not fair."

"I know. I know. Shhh…"

"None of this was supposed to happen," she cried. "I just don't understand why these things keep happening to us. What did we do wrong? I don't understand…"

"I don't either, Livia. But it wasn't your fault. Any of it. It wasn't you fault, sweetheart."

Hearing that only made her cry harder. Suddenly it clicked for Olivia. The miscarriage wasn't her fault. While there was a relief that came with that, she also realised that this meant someone else had deliberately hurt her and caused it to happen. Somehow that felt so much worse.

"Sweetheart…" Peter said, but no words followed. He was choking up himself, and he had no idea how to comfort her. He hadn't seen her cry like this since she was fighting heroin addiction. It had been so long since he'd seen her this broken. But he knew that underneath all that there was a part of her that would always be strong, that could endure beyond the worst things imaginable. That was simply who she was.

Eventually she calmed down to the point where she was weeping silently, still leaning into him as he held her. "I hate this," she whispered, her hands moving over his chest. "Jones and everything. I just want us to go back to normal."

Peter had to keep himself from laughing. "When were we ever normal?"

She smiled faintly. "Never, I guess," she agreed, wiping her face. "Everything's just so messed up right now."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. But we will be happy again – probably sooner than you think. I promise, we'll get through this. With Jones, we have half the FBI behind us looking for the guy. And as for what happened on the raid, I think if we just let ourselves accept it until we get to the point where we can let go, that's the best we can do. We just have to stay strong for each other, OK?"

"OK," she whispered, kissing his cheek softly and holding his hand for comfort as they started the journey home.

**Please review! Things look up for a little while from now on, I promise. **


	5. Moving On

**References: Bank robberies (Safe), Walter's device (Ability), college kids (Os), M&Ms (Inner Child), Roxy (The Transformation), Nina conversations (Ability), **

"Hey, guys," Olivia said as she walked into the lab.

"Oh look, Peter, it's Olivia!" Walter exclaimed. "What can we do for you dear?"

"Just dropping in. Life off the Jones case is pretty boring."

"Hey sweetheart," Peter said, walking over and giving her a kiss. "We do actually have some new info on the Jones case if you want to hear it."

"Please."

"Well Walter and I have been looking into some theories as to exactly how Jones could have escaped from that German prison."

"And?"

"We think it might have something to do with that bank robbery we investigated a couple of months ago."

"The one with the guy stuck in the wall? I remember. But we never figured out what was in that safety deposit box they stole."

"Well, we think we might know what it was."

"We think it was one of my inventions," Walter explained. "From before I was in St Claire's. I used to hide away pieces of my technology for safekeeping. I believe the safety deposit box that was stolen contained a piece of a very powerful device Belly and I created. I'm sorry I didn't remember this before – my mind works in strange ways."

"And the other pieces?"

"In other banks," Peter explained. "We looked them up and all of them had experienced mysterious break-ins recently, we just hadn't picked up on the cases because there were no bodies."

"And this device could have helped Jones escape?"

"Yes."

Olivia ran a hand down her face, struggling to curb her frustration. "Walter, that would have been useful to know back when we were investigating the robbery."

"Look, sweetheart, I know, but we just have to work with what we have now," Peter said.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes before looking back at them. "So what does the machine do?"

"It was a - transportation device," Walter explained. "I called it 'DizRay', coined based on the premise disintegration, reintegration, dis-re, 'DizRay'."

"Are you saying that you created a..."

"...a teleportation system, yeah," Peter cut in.

"Assuming someone could solve the considerable problems, coming through it – arriving - would require weeks of decompression in a barometric tank," Walter went on to say. "And if you survived that, based on what would happen next... you'd likely wished you hadn't."

"So you're saying that Jones, in theory, could have zapped himself out of prison."

"Uh... yes."

"So that's it, then," she muttered, clearly exasperated. "Jones could be anywhere by now. We're right back where we started."

"Livia…"

"Look, I have to get back to work. I'll see you guys later," she said, walking off.

In the corridor, she heard Peter walking after her. "Livia, stop."

Sighing, she relented and leaned against the wall by some lockers as college students buzzed around them. "What?" she muttered.

"Livia, what's going on with you?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm just sick of this, Peter," she muttered. "I hate being off the case, I hate not knowing what Jones is up to, I hate having cops outside our house every night, I just -"

"I know, I know," he said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to soothe her. "I hate it too. But I don't see what we can do about it." She just shook her head some more. He tipped her chin up. "Hey," he murmured. "I'm sorry you can't be helping us with the case, but we will find Jones. With or without you, we'll find him. And then we won't need cops outside our house anymore."

He leaned in and gave her a little kiss. She couldn't help but smile and kiss him back. He always had this knack of cheering her up. It was particularly frustrating when they were having little arguments and stuff. All he had to do was smile or kiss her or make one of his sarcastic jokes and suddenly she just couldn't be mad at him anymore.

"Is this the real reason you stopped me in the hallway?" she asked with a cheeky smile. "So we could make out in front of college kids and not your Dad?"

He chuckled. "I just don't want to see you upset. You've seemed really worn down lately."

"I'm OK, Peter. Don't worry about me," she said, leaning her forehead against his. "I have to go to New York to see Nina Sharp about a case. But I'll be home in time for us to go and babysit Ella."

"OK. See you then," he replied as she gave him a goodbye kiss and went on her way.

* * *

><p>The Massive Dynamic building still creeped her out, even though she's been there a thousand times. There were times where she doubted Nina Sharp's total honesty, but she'd always proven to stick to her word, and that was enough for Olivia. In Nina's office, she gave Olivia some files. "Here are those notes to help you with your case, Agent Dunham."<p>

"Thank you. This will be really helpful."

Nina gave her a knowing smile. "I'm always happy to help, but I'm sceptical that this is all you came for."

Olivia just returned the smile and cut to the chase. "I need information on a drug called Cortexiphan – off the record, if you don't mind."

"Of course. It doesn't ring a bell... let me check." She pulled out what looked like an insanely high-tech PDA and fiddled with it. "Oh yes, I recall this. 'Cortexiphan' - it was part of a clinical trial of a drug that Doctor Bell created in '81."

"What is it?"

"Doctor Bell theorized that the human mind, at birth, is infinitely capable... and that every force it encounters; social, physical, intellectual... is the beginning of the process he referred to as 'limitation' - a diminishing of that potential."

"And Cortexiphan?"

"It was meant to 'limit' that 'limitation' - to prevent the natural shrinking of that brain power."

"To prevent, not undo?"

"Meaning..."

"That the drug was administered to children?"

"Yes, but they were unsuccessful - so Doctor Bell abandoned his research on Cortexiphan in 1983."

"And where were the trials?"

"Doctor Bell conducted the trials himself at Ohio State University, Wooster Campus."

"Nowhere else?" She couldn't help smiling as she said it. She knew Jones was full of shit. There was no way she was ever treated with that drug.

"No...why?"

"Nothing - it's good to know."

"Well, I'll do a bit of digging for you and see what I can find," Nina said as they stood and shook hands.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

As Olivia drove back to Boston, she couldn't help but wonder whether or not she was crossing a line. Going behind Broyles' back to find answers was one thing, but going behind Peter's back… She brushed her guilt from her mind. Peter would just worry too much, like he always did. It was best to keep him in the dark, for now at least. She just focused on getting back home to her husband and looking forward to the night they had planned looking after Ella.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ella, look what I've got!" Olivia announced, pulling out a small bag of M&amp;Ms.<p>

"Yay!" Ella exclaimed, bouncing before settling on a bean bag with Olivia to eat them.

Olivia started separating them into groups on the coffee table nearby. "Now remember what I told you, Ella. Don't tell your mum I'm giving you these, or you'll get me in big trouble, OK?"

"OK. What are you doing?"

"I'm putting all the M&Ms into different colour groups."

"Why?"

"I don't like the yellow ones."

"That's silly, Aunt Liv," Ella giggled. "They taste the same."

"I know they taste the same, baby girl. I just don't like yellow. But I also put them in colour groups so it's easier to make pictures."

"Pictures?"

"Yeah! It's always more fun to make pictures with M&Ms before you eat them. Like this," she said, grabbing a few chocolates and laying them on the table. "OK, so I can put some brown ones here, and then some green ones up here. What does that look like?"

"A tree!"

"Good girl! You wanna make a picture for Aunt Liv?"

Ella giggled and ate a few M&Ms before starting to make pictures with her aunt. They'd been doing this for a few minutes when they suddenly heard a deep roar coming from the kitchen. Ella's head shot up, but when she heard the roar again followed by heavy footsteps, she giggled.

Olivia playfully pretended to be scared. "Oh no, Ella! Is that the Tickle Monster? What should we do?"

Ella just laughed and bounced a little on Olivia's lap. She loved this game Peter or her Dad would play with her.

"Ella, he's coming closer! I think you should hide!"

The three year old giggled hysterically and ran away, her tiny feet padding the floor, only to be chased down the corridor by Peter who was roaring and taking giant steps, growling "I'm coming to get you! RAARGHH!"

Ella squealed and laughed as she tried to hide behind doors or under tables only to have Peter announce "I found you!" and send her running again. Olivia lay back and laughed as she watched them play for ages, Peter occasionally breaking character to tell Ella something like "Careful, don't run too fast, you'll fall over!" before going back to his roaring and chasing.

Eventually Peter scooped up the squealing and wriggling three year old. "I've got you now!" he proclaimed in his monster voice. "You shall never escape my clutches! Mwa ha ha!" He carried her over to the bean bag Olivia was lying on and put her down, tickling her under her arms until she screamed. His eyes then fell on Olivia. "Hmm…Tickle Monster's found a new victim!" Peter picked up Ella and stood her next to him. "What do you think, Ella? You wanna be a Junior Tickle Monster and help me tickle Aunt Liv?"

"Yeah!"

"Peter, no!" Olivia managed to squeak out before the two pounced on her, tickling her without end. "Please!" she gasped in between giggles. "Please, don't!"

"Don't stop, loyal apprentice!" Peter ordered Ella. "Show no mercy!"

"No!" Olivia almost squealed, wriggling to escape them. "Please, I can't breathe!"

Peter finally relented and gently told Ella to stop, before giving Olivia a quick kiss and a smirk. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"I'm getting you back for that."

"Oh really now?"

"Yep," Olivia said, taking Ella's hand. "Come on, baby girl, we're gonna go find something funny to do to Uncle Peter."

"Yay!"

"Oh no," Peter groaned. "We've created a monster."

"You started it," Olivia threw back at him before scooping Ella up into her arms and taking her away to her room to plot their evil plan. Peter just lay back on the bean bag and rested while they were gone. Ella was fun and a nice break from the stresses of work, but she could be hard work herself. He jolted awake when he felt Olivia trying to blindfold him.

He smirked. "Not that I'm opposed to this, sweetheart, but there's a three year old in the next room."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she chuckled, tightening it.

He heard Ella's little feet pitter-patter across the floor and sat up a little. She was giggling like crazy. Peter groaned, wondering how the little girl was going to torture him. It wasn't long before he started feeling something soft padding against his face and drawing patterns on his cheeks.

"I'm guessing I'm getting my make-up done," he mumbled.

Judging by Ella's hysterical giggling, he was right. Peter felt Olivia laughing next to him. "Be a good sport. She's three," Olivia said. She really had got him back, but he thought for Ella's sake he should at least make the most of it.

"Ella, are you doing my make-up?"

"Yeah!" was her giggly reply.

"What are you doing?"

"Umm…I dunno yet. Drawing."

"Am I pretty?"

"No!" Ella laughed.

"No? You're saying I'm not pretty? That's so mean!"

"I think you're adorable, Peter," Olivia said, kissing his hair and laughing.

"See, Ella, why can't you be nice like your Aunt Liv?" he teased.

"OK! You're pretty!" Ella relented, but her tone wasn't convincing.

"So was this your idea or hers?" he asked Olivia.

"Definitely hers," she laughed. "She's just like Rachael was at that age. This one time, she raided our aunt's make up stash and poured a whole bottle of perfume on our cousins' dog, Roxy. And I got all the blame for it coz I was the oldest. I got in so much trouble."

Olivia's phone rang and she knew immediately it was work. "Sorry, guys, I'll be back in a sec," she said as she went to another room to answer it. "Hello."

"Agent Dunham? It's Nina Sharp. I was curious about that question you asked, whether there were other places where Cortexiphan was tested."

"Yeah?"

"There was, it turns out - a second clinical trial - though much smaller than the one in Ohio."

"There was?"

"Yes, in Jacksonville, Florida... at a military base."

That was a kick in the gut. "Thank you very much for calling," she forced out.

"You're most welcome - have a good night."

"You too," she said as she hung up. A whirlwind raged inside her head. She hadn't taken Jones' claims too seriously until now. Olivia didn't know what to think. Apart from this new information, there was no evidence to suggest that she was treated with Cortexiphan. She didn't remember ever taking it, or have any lingering effects from it that she knew of. It couldn't be true, right?

"Hey," Peter said, appearing with Ella in the doorway. "You OK?"

She nodded and forced a smile. It was too early to talk to Peter about this yet. She smirked when she saw the smudges of eye shadow and lipstick love hearts drawn all over his cheeks. "Hey, handsome."

He rolled his eyes and put Ella down so she could walk. "Come on, princess, let's put all this make-up back where it belongs, huh?"

Olivia followed them to the bathroom and leaned against the door as Ella brushed her teeth and Peter washed his face. Olivia put Ella to bed and went back out to meet Peter, who wrapped his arms around her middle. "You OK?"

"Yeah. Work's just got me stressed, that's all."

"If you're sure."

"I'm fine. Don't worry so much," she said, kissing him softly and tugging him to walk over and lie on the couch with her so they could watch TV until Rachael and Greg came home.

"We're getting really good at this, don't you think?" he asked her out of nowhere.

"I hope so."

"You sure you're OK?"

She forced a smile and leaned into his chest as they lay together. "I'm just really tired."

But still he sensed that something was wrong, whispering "It's gonna be OK" before pulling her close and letting her rest against his body. He felt her smile faintly against his skin before she finally fell asleep.

**If you review you just might get to see some newlywed steaminess next chapter… **


	6. Morning

**References: Broyles' ZFT explanation (Road Not Taken), Déjà vu (Road Not Taken), Sesame Street (Stowaway), **

The bed was cold when Peter woke in the morning. His eyes still closed, he stretched his hand across Olivia's side of the mattress, only to find it empty. A sound from the kitchen made him smile and he got out of bed to meet her. Peter found his wife sitting on the kitchen bench, her phone beside her, wearing nothing but his work shirt and her underwear. His mouth dropped open just a little. It didn't matter how much he'd seen of her body – she still managed to stun him into silence on days like these.

"Hey," she said, smirking and brushing her hand through some hair that had fallen over her face.

"Good morning," he managed to say. He came over to stand between her knees and give her a kiss, placing his hands on her bare thighs.

"It is a good morning," she said, nuzzling his nose with hers. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really, now? I'm intrigued."

"Look outside."

His forehead crinkled in confusion and he went over to the window, parting the curtain and taking a look. "I don't see anything."

"Exactly."

Then he realised. "The patrol car's gone." He looked back to find her smiling and he chuckled. "How?"

"Broyles just called," she explained, tugging on his hand so he could stand before her again. "It seems like I managed to convince him that if Jones really wanted me dead, I would be by now. It's been weeks and nothing's happened. He's letting me back on the case to work with you guys. And we don't have to have cops outside our apartment anymore."

His smile was so bright it made her heart swell. "No more protective details?"

"No more details."

He kissed her and held her close, half laughing. It was such a relief. The cops on their detail had never disturbed them or anything, but it had been disconcerting knowing someone was watching them all the time. Suddenly they were free. She smiled into the kiss and gripped fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him flush against her. "This calls for a celebration," she murmured in between kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

He smirked. "I agree," he replied, sliding his hands up her thighs so his thumbs could rub little circles on her hipbones. Their kisses became sweet and playful as their hands tickled and explored each other. It had been ages since they felt so free, so able to just relax and not feel like they were being watched 24/7. Peter pulled her close, taking in the scent of her hair as he kissed down her neck, his stubble tickling her skin just enough to make her breath hitch. Olivia's eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his body, savouring the feel of him against her. Undoing the buttons of her shirt, he kissed her shoulder and made his way down her chest, feasting on her skin and loving the way her body quivered in anticipation. Desperate to feel him too, she slid her hands under his MIT shirt and let her fingertips skitter over his back, his stomach, his chest, making him shudder.

He moved his hands to her hips to lift her and take her back to their bedroom, but she pushed his hands away and shook her head, smiling. "Don't bother," she chuckled, peeling his shirt off his body.

He smirked, undoing the last buttons of her shirt as well and tossing it to the floor. "Have we christened this side of the bench yet? Coz we definitely did that edge over there a few times."

"I've lost track," she breathed, her breath hot against his skin. He used his hand on her back to pull her close enough to press their bare chests together as they kissed. He let his fingers trace lazy patterns on her inner thighs, making her shiver. Before he could touch her she decided to beat him to it, smiling against his lips as her hand slipped inside his boxers to tease him. He groaned at the initial surprising pleasure of it, and she felt him start to pant against her shoulder where his face was buried. After a while he was throbbing in her hand, letting her know he was close. He grabbed her hand to pull her from him, grasping both her wrists together and holding them tight. She struggled a little but he held fast, using his other hand to peel her underwear off her, kissing his way back up her legs and letting his thumb touch her lightly, just teasing her.

He had her whimpering now. He loved that he could have this effect on her – that he could cause the headstrong, stubborn spitfire that was Olivia Dunham to melt in his hands. Of course, she could do worse to him – he knew that full well. As he kissed her inner thigh she trembled and moaned, silently pleading with him to taste her. Peter chuckled, biting softly at the skin of her thigh before giving her what she wanted, using a hand on her hips to hold her still. Soon enough she was shaking all over, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out. She grasped the shelf of a cabinet behind her for support while her other hand twisted its way through his hair. The pleasure building beyond her control, she fought to slow it down and tugged lightly on his hair.

"Peter," she breathed. "Come back up here. Please."

He chuckled at her impatience as he made his way back up her body and she pulled him close, kissing him long and hard and whimpering as she tasted herself on his tongue. He smiled against her lips and pulled back to look her in the eyes, cupping her face. She smiled back, biting her lower lip, hooking her arms around his neck and running her foot slowly over the back of his thigh. He chuckled at the sensation and kissed her lazily. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Her hands ran down his stomach to remove his boxers. As he kissed her and hooked her legs around him, she grasped him to guide him into place. She bit his lip softly and her nails dug into his back as he pushed into her slowly, both of them groaning at the contact. He started up a steady pace and she gripped the edge of the bench for better traction and angled her hips, causing him to sink deeper into her. It felt so good it made their heads spin. They began to pick up speed, pulling each other closer and deeper, kissing long and hard to muffle their moans. He loved the way she clung to his body and how it made him realise that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her – that she needed this, her legs around him, demanding it.

"Livia..."

She whimpered a little at the sound of her name and pulled him closer still, kissing and nipping at his shoulder where her face was buried. His breath was ragged by this point and she knew he was close. He knew she was too, feeling her legs tremble around him, desperately trying to keep their hold on his hips. His palm moved up to cup her face, watching her as she let it all go. She opened her mouth to cry out but he kissed her to swallow the sound of his name, groaning himself as she dragged him over the edge with her.

As they slowed to a stop, they were both shaking and catching their breaths, resting their foreheads together. His hand trailed down her naked back and she leaned into him, feeling fine tremors still vibrating through his body. He smiled and whispered an "I love you", brushing some sweaty hair from her face.

"I love you, too"

* * *

><p>Once they finally got to work, Broyles called a meeting in Walter's lab for the Fringe agents working on the Jones case. None of them really knew what to expect, most of them having never met Walter, but he was surprisingly lucid today.<p>

"I've called you all down here to discuss the future of the Jones case," Broyles announced. "As you know, David Robert Jones escaped from a maximum security German prison about two months ago. We assumed he had come to America when the three faceless murders occurred, each victim carrying one of Jones' drawings of Agent Olivia Dunham in their pocket. However, these murders stopped over a month ago and all leads on Jones have gone cold."

"He could be dead," Peter suggested. "The teleportation device he used would have had massive side effects. He could have slowed the process scientifically but eventually he was gonna die."

"Perhaps," said Broyles. "But until I see his body myself I'm not taking any chances. The other possibility is that he's gone into hiding to avoid detection or that he's planning something far worse than these previous attacks." He handed out some files, which the agents passed along to each other. "For those of you new to Fringe Division, what you're looking at is the work of Z.F.T., a terrorist organization responsible for at least a half a dozen biological attacks over the last several months. Everything we know thus far can be found in your packets, including a copy of their manifesto, which elucidates their ideology and their methods - 'destruction by the advancement of technology' - which in short, boils down to the following: attempting to provoke or prepare for a war."

"War?" a new agent asked. "With who?"

"We're not sure yet – but the manifesto seems to hint that the war is a cosmic battle with a theoretical alternate universe."

"An alternate universe? You're kidding, right?"

"Doctor Bishop will explain it to you," Broyles said, gesturing to Walter, who was standing by a chalkboard.

"Have any of you ever experienced Déjà Vu?" Walter asked the agents, most of whom nodded. "Most of us experience life as a - a linear progression just like this." He drew a long horizontal line on the blackboard. "But this is an illusion because every day, life presents us with an array of choices. As a result, life should look more like this," he explained, drawing out branches from the original line. "And each choice... leads to a new path. And each choice we take creates a new reality. Deja vu is simply a momentary glimpse to the other side. Almost everyone experiences it. We feel that we've been somewhere before because actually we have - in another reality. It's another path. The _road not taken_."

"So the alternate universes aren't just a theory ZFT uses in their ideology?" Lincoln asked. "They're real?"

"Very much so, yes. William Bell and I confirmed it in the research we were doing for the government in the 80s. But of course, this information has been kept from all of you until now for security reasons."

"What kind of research?" Olivia asked, hoping to subtly gain some light on the Cortexiphan trials. She wondered if he was involved in them or if it was just Bell. There was no hope in getting answers from Bell – the guy had gone AWOL over a year ago and nobody had heard from him since.

"In 1985, Belly and I created a window that could see into one of the alternate universes. We began to find ways to send small objects over there and receive objects back – there was always an exchange because the universes, above all, seek balance. We also theorized that very young children had a natural ability to see glimpses of the other side, whether it was seeing things that weren't there, having imaginary friends…"

"Walter, that's ridiculous," Peter interrupted. "Little kids have vivid imaginations. They can easily make up things like imaginary friends. It doesn't necessarily mean they're seeing other people from an alternate universe."

"Don't be so small-minded, son. These things are certainly possible. We did research asking young children to look at a range of objects, one of which was from the other side, and ask them which one didn't belong."

"One of these things is not like the others," Lincoln muttered. Everyone looked to him, puzzled. "What? It's from Sesame Street."

"Yes, exactly like that," said Walter. "Time and time again, children were able to identify objects from the alternate universe by some kind of unique energy surrounding them. They often described it as a glimmer."

This sent Olivia's mind reeling. She frantically scanned her memory for anything remotely resembling a glimmer. Her stomach dropped. The only thing she could think of was when she was undercover on that ZFT case three years ago. The FBI rescued her, put her in an ambulance and asked her if she'd been raped. She didn't know – she couldn't remember, but she was bleeding. She had cried. Peter had held her hand and told her it was going to be OK. She told him she was scared. She remembered that there was a strange, shimmery glow to his skin. But she'd brushed it off at the time - she was injured, delirious, high on heroin. She'd never seen the glimmer on Peter any other time. Plus, if she had, that would mean Peter was from an alternate universe, and that was just ridiculous.

No, she tried to assure herself. There was no way she was treated with Cortexiphan.

"So you're saying there are an infinite number of alternate universes, right?" Charlie asked Walter.

"Yes."

"So which one is ZFT going to war with? All of them?"

"The manifesto explains that there has already been a breach between our world and one other," Broyles explained. "This has caused physical and environmental conflict between the two worlds ever since. ZFT believes that this will build to the point of cosmic warfare at the end of which only one world can survive. It appears that Jones and ZFT have been inventing and testing various chemical weapons to use in this war."

"So what do we do now? We've heard nothing from Jones in weeks."

"I want you to scan all national health, crime, weather and environmental databases for any anomalies or cases of unexplained phenomenon that could potentially relate to The Pattern. We'll date them, map them out, see if we can find any connections."

A junior agent put his hand up. "Dating back how far, sir?"

"All of them," said Broyles. "The farther back we look, the more chance we have of discovering ZFT's endgame. Come on people, let's move."

The agents all scurried away to head back to the Federal Building or to investigate whatever clues they were working on. Before Olivia could leave, Peter ran up beside her and placed his hand on the small of her back to stop her from walking off. "Hey," he said. "Looks like we're gonna be busy for a while, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You OK? You're looking a little pale."

"It's fine. I'm just not feeling too good right now."

"Are you sick?"

"No, Peter. I'm fine. You worry too much."

"OK, well, have fun digging through all those files. I'll keep helping Walter in the lab and we'll let you know if we find something."

"Thank you. I'll see you at home tonight."

"See you then. Love you," he said, sneaking a kiss while Broyles and the others weren't looking.

She smiled softly, grateful for his support when everything else felt crazy. "I love you, too," she said, squeezing his hand and going back to work.

**Please review after all that P/O : )**


	7. The Truth

**References: "I've never met anyone who can do the things that you do" (Jacksonville), Walter/Peter/Olivia Cortexiphan discussion (Bad Dreams), "I could kill you where you stand" (Over There: Part 1), lines used from ****The Man From the Other Side, Safe and Peter, "I don't know who I am anymore" (Northwest Passage), "You belong with me" (Over There: Part 2)**

Peter came home one day to find Olivia in a ball on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, crying into her hands. "Livia? What's wrong?"

She couldn't answer him. She couldn't even look at him. As she let out a small sob, she felt him kneel beside her and take her into his arms, rocking her slowly. "Shh…" he whispered to her, but she couldn't stop crying. "Liv, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"Oh Peter," she wept into his chest, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, clinging to him for support. "Peter, what are we going to do?"

"What happened? It's OK, you can tell me."

She sighed and wiped her face, finding comfort in his arms. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" he breathed, the news barely sinking in. "Are you sure?"

"I just took three tests. I'm sure."

"We're having a baby?" Even though his wife was crying, he couldn't stop the joy that spread through his heart. He held her and kissed her hair, unable to wipe that stupid grin off his face. "Oh my God. Olivia, this is incredible. Why are you crying like this?"

"Peter, I'm scared."

"Oh sweetheart, this one's gonna make it. I know it. Just take it easy at work, and -"

"No, Peter," she cried. "I'm not ready for this. When we got married we said we'd wait a couple of years before we even thought about kids and now… This feels like some really stupid cosmic joke. We didn't plan any of this and I just had a fucking miscarriage a few of months ago and now I'm pregnant again. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," he assured her. "I've never met anyone who can do the things that you do. We're gonna figure this out. It'll be a lot of work but we'll learn how to raise this baby the best way we possibly can." He smiled and kissed her hair, wiping her tears away. "It kind of makes sense though, doesn't it? I mean, we've been having sex practically non-stop since we got married and we can be…impatient, sometimes. We're not always careful."

She shook her head, still weeping into his shirt. "Peter, I can't do this. I'm too young. I won't know what to do. I don't know anything about being a parent."

"Neither do I. Don't be scared. It'll be hard work but we'll do it all together – we have to get check-ups and decorate its room and buy stuff and choose names and all that. We'll have our friends and families to support us and give us advice. We're gonna be fine, Livia. You're probably more ready for this than you think you are. You're wonderful with Ella and Lucy. So don't cry, Livia," he said, smoothing his hand over her stomach, wishing he could feel proof of the tiny life growing inside of her. "Listen to me. We're gonna be just fine. All three of us. OK?"

"Uh-huh," she whimpered.

He was still concerned. "Sweetheart, aren't you happy?"

He felt her smile against his chest through her tears. "I am. I'm so happy. I'm just scared to death, too. It feels like it's too much, too fast. I guess I'm just in shock right now, and the hormones aren't helping." She rested her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers and they rested over her stomach. "Are you happy?"

"I'm thrilled," he said, beaming and holding her close. She knew he was telling the truth.

"Peter…I want to wait to tell people, if that's alright with you."

"Because you're scared of losing it again?"

"Yeah, but it's not just that. I mean, I'll have to tell Broyles for work, but as soon as we tell people everyone's going to be bombarding us with the same questions over and over, and they'll never leave us alone – just like when we got engaged. I want this to belong to just the two of us for a little while, so we can come to terms with it in peace. Is that OK?"

"I think that sounds great. This is gonna be amazing, Livia. You'll see."

But still she couldn't quell the fear inside of her. Finally finding the courage to look him in the eye, she pulled back and looked up at him. But what she saw then scared her even more than the pregnancy.

Peter was glimmering.

She swallowed. Blinked. It wasn't a trick of the light. He was definitely glimmering. She knew what this meant. She really was treated with Cortexiphan, just like Jones said. What was worse was that this meant Peter wasn't who he thought he was. This changed everything.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She closed her eyes, wishing it all away. This couldn't be happening. Not today. She felt his hands cup her face.

"Livia, what's wrong? You're scaring me."

She pulled his hands from her and stood up, going to the sink and washing her face. "We have to go see your father," she said, unable to look at him.

"Oh. OK, you can swing by the lab tomorrow and -"

"No. We have to see him now," she said, pushing past him and walking out of the bathroom.

* * *

><p>The drive to the retirement home where Walter now lived was tense to say the least. Olivia couldn't look at Peter, and he didn't understand why. He couldn't figure out what he'd done to make her feel this way. Was he supposed to have reacted differently? Had he not been supportive enough? Did he say something wrong?<p>

Peter stopped the car and they got out to walk over to Walter's flat. Olivia grabbed for his hand and forced him to stop. She had tears in her eyes. "Peter, before we get into this I want to tell you that I'm so, so sorry."

"For what?"

"Walter's been lying to you. To both of us. I just realised it, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry."

"Olivia, I don't understand. What's going on?"

She shook her head. "I need answers too. Walter will be able to explain what happened better than I can." Squeezing his hand, she walked with him to Walter's door and knocked.

The old man opened it, thankfully clothed, with a huge smile on his face. "Peter, Olivia! What a lovely surprise!" But the look on their faces told him they didn't want to be there. "What's wrong?"

"Walter, we need to talk to you," Olivia said, anger burning bright in her eyes.

The three of them went inside. Peter sat with Walter in the living room but Olivia refused and stood. "Walter, what can you tell me about Cortexiphan?"

"Oh, that takes me back. I remember Belly whipping up a peyote mash -"

"Walter!" she shouted, startling him.

The old man took pause and looked at her seriously, knowing she'd caught up with him. She knew everything. He swallowed. "Cortexiphan was a highly experimental drug. William theorized that it might enhance certain abilities in predisposed children."

"You experimented on little kids?" Peter asked, offended by the very idea of it – especially so now that he knew he had a child on the way.

"Oh, no, no. Not me. William. We had quite a disagreement about it."

"What abilities?" Olivia asked.

"It worked on perception. Carlos Castaneda, Aldus Huxley, Werner Heisenberg, all focused on one single elementary truth: perception is the key to transformation."

"Reality is both subjective and malleable," Peter translated. "If you can dream a better world, you can make a better world."

"Or perhaps travel between them," said Walter.

"What did you just say?" Peter asked.

"Cortexiphan children were the ones who could see the glimmer, weren't they, Walter?" Olivia pushed. "They were the ones who could identify objects from the other side. They could identify people too, right? Was I one of them? Walter, answer me!"

"Olivia, calm down," Peter said. "You were never treated with Cortexiphan. Jones just made that up to scare you."

"No, Peter. Jones didn't lie. I know now. I just need Walter to admit it."

By this point, both of them were glaring at Walter, who sat silently in his chair, head bowed. For a moment there was tense silence.

Peter stood up and went to Olivia's side. "Walter, is it true?" He was fuming. Olivia could feel rage vibrating off of him in waves. She held his hand, trying to calm him.

"Son, I…"

"Walter! Is it true or not?"

The old man hung his head. "Yes. Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm so sorry, Olivia."

"I could kill you where you stand," Peter spat, taking a step towards Walter. Olivia put a hand on his chest, holding him back and struggling to keep him calm.

"Peter, please try to understand," Walter begged. "We were trying to prepare them -"

"No! You try to understand!" Peter shouted. "She is my wife! She was just a little girl, how could you do that to her? How could you do that to anyone? Explain that to me, you son of a bitch! How the fuck do you justify experimenting on my wife when she was just a child?"

"Peter stop," Olivia pleaded. She was furious with Walter too but she didn't want Peter to hurt his father. "Please, Peter. There's more you need to hear. I'm so sorry."

Peter fumed and tried to control himself. "What else?" he muttered.

Olivia swallowed and looked back to Walter, who was shaking by this point. "Tell me about the glimmer."

Realisation crossed Walter's face. "You've seen it, haven't you?"

"Only twice."

"I never meant for this to happen," Walter whispered into his hands. He looked between her and Peter. "You know?"

"Yes."

"Olivia, please don't tell," he begged her in a desperate whisper.

She shook her head. "You've kept this secret long enough, Walter. Tell him."

"Olivia, please -"

"Tell him everything, now. Or I will."

"Guys, you're freaking me out," Peter said. "What's going on here?"

Neither of them answered him. Olivia was staring daggers at Walter, who was looking desperately back at her. The whole room was still, dead quiet.

"Tell him," she said again.

Then Peter realised. He tugged on Olivia's hand to get her to look at him. "The glimmer…you saw it earlier? In the bathroom?"

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

Peter felt like his whole world was imploding. He was shaking. All the colour drained from his face. He couldn't make any sound. His hands clenched. His breathing came heavy. "Oh my God…" he finally choked. He was hung somewhere desperate in between fury and despair. He squeezed Olivia's hand, not knowing whether to run or cry or beat the living shit out of something. In the end he glared at Walter.

"I'm not from here, am I?"

Walter shook his head sorrowfully. "You nearly died when you were a boy. You started bruising… and your kidneys failed. The doctors didn't know what it was. Your mother was beside herself - she stopped eating, she stopped sleeping…and I was worse. After all, I was the scientist, here my only son was dying and I couldn't do anything about it."

"Walter, I don't remember any of that."

"I became consumed with saving you. Conquering the disease. The illness was genetic. Savage. Wasting. I tried everything. There was simply no hope. At least...not on this side. William and I had learned that we had doubles in the alternate universe. We created windows to see into their world. They were more technologically advanced over there. I thought if the alternate Peter was also sick over there, then wouldn't his father be equally motivated to find a cure? He was. God help me... He was…."

Despite the chaos raging in his brain, Peter was starting to figure it out. The Peter from over here had died, but he had survived for some reason. And then he was kidnapped to be brought back here – a substitute son. A replacement, nothing more. It all made sense now, and yet he felt like nothing made sense anymore.

"You didn't just create windows to see the other side," he spat at Walter. "You went through...and you brought me back. That's why Olivia can see my glimmer. It's why I can't remember my childhood…"

"You were dying, Peter."

"...It's why my mother committed suicide. Isn't it? She knew, didn't she? And when I left, the guilt was too much for her to live with – the lie."

"Peter, you need to understand something..."

"I understand, Walter," he snapped. "I understand everything now."

Walter's face softened in a desperate search for some kind of atonement. "Son…"

"I am not your son!" he spat angrily, charging out the door.

For a moment Olivia just stood still, stunned by what she'd just witnessed. She looked back to Walter, who was fighting tears. "Olivia," he choked. "You can't imagine what it's like to lose a child."

Part of her wanted to tell him that she and Peter did know – they knew exactly – but she bit her tongue, going and running after Peter instead. She found him on the side of the road, head in his hands and pacing furiously. "Peter," she called out, but he wouldn't stop. She got closer and could tell he was crying. "Peter," she said again, softer this time as she reached out to him.

He jerked away from her. "Don't touch me!" he snapped, still pacing.

She took a step back, trying not to take it personally, but her damn pregnancy hormones wouldn't let her and she started crying silently. Noticing this, Peter sighed, still tense. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault."

"It's OK. Peter, I'm so sorry you're feeling like this. But after I saw your glimmer I thought you deserved to know the truth."

Peter sat on the edge of the pavement, wiping his eyes with his palms. He shook with fury and despair. She sat with him, shoulder to shoulder. They were quiet for a long time.

"Everything was a lie – my whole fucking life," Peter finally said. "I don't know who I am anymore."

She wept, taking his hand. "You're my husband, who I love. You're our baby's father. You're a friend to lots of people who love you and want good for you, no matter what. That hasn't changed. I don't care where you're from – I will always love you and you will always have a home here."

Peter ran a hand over his face. "Maybe I just need to get away for a while. Clear my head."

"Where?"

He shrugged. "Anywhere. I just don't want to be here. I'll come back to you in a few days."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, holding him. "Please, Peter. Don't go. Not tonight. This day's been huge for both of us, learning about the baby and Cortexiphan and how Walter kidnapped you. I know you have a lot to figure out, but so do I. And I think we could do that together. Peter, I know you need space to figure some things out for yourself, but please, not tonight. Just sleep on it, and we can talk about all this in the morning. If you still feel after that like you need to take a few days then you can go."

"Olivia, I don't belong here," he choked.

"Yes you do. You belong here because you belong with me," she said earnestly, taking his hand and placing it against her stomach. "And now you belong with our baby, too. All three of us, like you said. It isn't just about you or me anymore. Our lives will never be the same now."

Peter thought about it, weighing his options, then nodded, desperately holding her close. She could feel tears on her shoulder where his face was buried and just held him, wishing she knew how to fix their lives. She prayed in that moment that their baby would bring them the hope of a fresh start, a new life.

"Come home with me," she finally said. "Please. Just stay one more night."

When he nodded, she took his hand, standing and picking him up from the gutter. Her touch was warm and smooth and her thumb drew a light circle on his palm. She kissed him softly and tugged on his hand, leading him back home to prove to him where he belonged.

**Please review! Lots happened in this chap and it was hard work to write! **

**Also my mouse Wallace died today and I'm really upset coz my best friend gave him to me for my 18****th**** birthday, so reviews would really cheer me up : (**


	8. The Black Drop

**The title of this chapter and my author name come from this quote:**

"**How shall a man escape from his ancestors, or draw off from his veins the black drop he drew from his father…?" – Ralph Waldo Emerson**

**References: Greek (A New Day in the Old Town), "figure out the rest" (Bloodline)**

When Peter first woke up the next day, he was able to convince himself that it was a normal morning. But soon enough the night before came rushing back to him – all the hurt, the fighting, the discovery of that life-long lie and the new life on its way. It all felt like it was too much to bear, even thought it was a new day. Lying in bed, he felt Olivia's bare skin against his and wanted to cry. Last night when they'd gotten home, they'd made love out of pure desperation, giving and receiving comfort, just needing to feel something, anything other than the pain and the fear that threatened to consume them both. They'd both cried – they hadn't bothered to try and hide it. She'd begged him not to leave her and the baby. He'd begged her to reassure him, to hold him, to prove to him where he belonged. But it was morning now, and he felt hollow and confused all over again. Feeling the threat of tears sting his eyes, he untangled himself from his wife's arms and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

His entire life was a lie. He understood it now. In a way he could understand that Walter lied, he would have expected it. But his mother? His beautiful mother, who had always adored him, who had struggled to support him when Walter went to St Claire's, had lied to him every day of his life. While he couldn't imagine that, somehow it made so much sense he couldn't possibly deny it to himself. There wasn't much he remembered about his childhood, but he did remember from his teenage life how his mother used to cry at night when she thought he was asleep. She used to spoil him when she could, like she was making up for something. She drank. He remembered she had trouble looking him in the eye. When she did, there'd be something oddly dark present in her eyes that his young mind couldn't decipher. He originally assumed it was sadness or worry, mostly because she was raising him alone. He now understood that it had been shame. Guilt. The weight of the lie.

But as for Walter, Peter couldn't see how he could possibly forgive him at this point. Not only had he kidnapped him and lied to him all his life, but he had lied to his wife too. He had experimented on her as a child, like an animal, and never told her. He couldn't imagine what Olivia was going through right now. God knows what this Cortexiphan treatment was going to mean for their unborn baby. His "father" had tried to explain his side of the story last night, but it wasn't enough for Peter. A lie's not a side of a story. It's just a lie.

Peter didn't understand what this meant for him now. Where did he go from here? Was this world, this home he'd built with his wife, not where he belonged anymore? Did his family on the other side still miss him?

Then he realised that his family from the other side had probably forgotten about him. They must have moved on, or figured he was just dead somewhere. Because he'd been in another universe for 20 years, and if his real father was half as smart as Walter, he would have been rescued by now. Someone would have come to take him home.

_Home_. He scoffed to himself. He didn't even know the meaning of the word anymore.

And now he had found out that he and Olivia had a child on the way. A little boy or girl that was uniquely theirs, their love so overflowing that they'd created a third person to share it with. The concept kind of blew his mind wide open with an unprecedented joy, but at the same time left a thousand unanswerable questions on his heavy heart. The first of which: how the hell was he supposed to be a father at all, let alone a good one, when Walter's failings were the only example that had been set for him?

He felt Olivia stir in the bed. He turned back to her, brushed some hair away from her face as she woke. She didn't smile, didn't say anything – just leaned into his touch and kissed his palm. She took his hand, pulled him back to lie down with her. There were tears in his eyes, though he had tried to blink them away. They just lay there for what seemed like hours, holding each other, foreheads pressed together.

Eventually, Olivia was the first to speak. "Are you leaving?" she whispered.

He shook his head.

"It's OK," she said. "I understand if you need some time. Just come back."

"No, Olivia. I feel like you're the only thing I love anymore. I'm not going anywhere."

She leaned in and kissed him softly to comfort him. Salt. Of course. He'd been crying.

"Are you OK?" he asked her.

"Are you?"

He smirked a little. "I asked first."

"I'm angry," she admitted. "I'm furious that Walter lied to both of us for so long. And I'm scared that we won't be able to get through all this. I'm terrified that we're bringing a baby into this, but at the same time I feel like he or she's our only hope for the future right now."

He nodded.

"Peter…?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

She dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry I made him tell you about being from the other side. Maybe it would have been better if I just left it alone. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. And don't be sorry for making him tell me. I feel like shit right now, but… Olivia some things are making sense for the first time in my life. I know the truth now. That has to count for something." He tipped up Olivia's chin so she would look at him. "And I'm sorry for what Walter did to you, too. You were a child and he should have never hurt you like that. I'm so furious with him right now; I don't think I can see myself forgiving him. I know we need him on this case, but I can't work with him anymore. I'll ask Broyles if we can get a forensics junior or something to help out and I'll help you guys over at the Federal Building."

"OK," she said, biting her lip. "What else do you feel?"

"I just told you."

She shook her head. Looked down at his chest. "About the baby."

Somehow through everything that was going on, he was able to smile softly as he gave her a kiss. But there was weight and sorrow in it. "I feel so happy that we're having a baby, but I'm scared too. I feel guilt for bringing them into a world this messed up." He placed a hand on her stomach. "This isn't what I imagined it would be."

"It never is."

He chuckled lightly, kissing her and rubbing his hand in a circle over her still-flat belly. "This feels kind of surreal," he said. "I mean…a baby…"

"I know."

He shook his head. "It doesn't seem right, bringing it into a family this broken."

"Hey," she murmured, cupping his face. "You and I are the only family this baby needs, and we are not broken. We are strong, and we will get through this. All three of us."

"I'm not so sure. I feel like everything around us is falling to pieces."

"It doesn't have to be that way. You can make a better future for this baby."

He scoffed. "How?"

She gave him a small smile, touching his face tenderly. "_Na enai kalitero anthropo apo ton patera tou_," she recited, and for the first time in his 27-year life he understood the gravity of what his mother had told him every night before bed. He knew now that this was his purpose – to be a better man than his father, to prove to his wife and child that he was stronger, wiser, more loving than the man who raised him. He would be the best husband and father he possibly could. That was his responsibility now.

"I will, I promise," he said, kissing her. "_Sagapo, agapi mou_."

She smirked a little. "Greek again?"

He nodded. "_Sagapo_ means I love you. _Agapi mou_ is my darling, my beloved, something like that. It's the only Greek phrase my mother ever taught my father."

"That's sweet."

He dropped his gaze, closing his eyes for a moment to remember that the Elizabeth and Walter he grew up with weren't his real parents at all. "Olivia…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think I could be good at this? Being a father?"

"I know you will be," she promised. "I know this is kind of fast and insane and terrifying, especially with everything that happened last night but…we have to step up, both of us. This baby is the only thing that matters now. OK?"

"OK. I'll look after you both till the day I die. I promise," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "You're right. We have to try and move on from what Walter did. He's not our family any more and our little boy or girl needs us."

She smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her and moved down her body to plant a small, soft kiss on her still-flat belly. "And I love you, little one. Since the moment I found out, I have loved you."

"Me too," Olivia whispered, smoothing a hand over her stomach, covering Peter's.

She sniffled and Peter looked up to see tears hanging in her eyes. "You OK?"

"Yeah. You're just being really sweet." She laughed through her tears. "Must be the hormones. Seems like everything's making me cry right now."

"Don't worry, little one," Peter whispered to the baby. "You're not making your mum sad. But making a nice home for you in her tummy is hard work so she's just going a little bit crazy right now."

"Hey! I'm not going crazy!"

"Not yet," he chuckled. "Give it a couple of months."

She laughed. "Speaking of which, why are you trying to explain the side effects of pregnancy to an unborn baby?"

"I'm not, really," he laughed, his chin sitting on her stomach as he looked up at her. "I just want it to get used to Daddy's voice."

"Can it hear us?"

"Not yet, but in a few months it'll learn to recognise voices it hears every day. It'll even learn to recognise songs it hears a lot."

"Wow."

He gave her stomach another kiss. "I'm gonna write you some music, little one. Your mum's already got her own song, so you need one too - a lullaby or something, just for you."

"That's really sweet," Olivia whispered, running a hand through his hair.

He made his way back up the bed to be in line with her. "Do you know how long you've been pregnant?"

"Not long. Only 5 or 6 weeks, I think."

"We need to take you to see a doctor."

"I know. I guess there are a lot of things to do," she said pensively, looking down at their interlocked hands over her stomach. "Nine months goes by fast."

"Only eight now."

"Exactly," she chuckled. "We'll have to tell Broyles so he can keep me off any dangerous field work."

He cupped her face, smoothing a thumb over her freckles. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know you don't like to take it easy at work, but -"

"It's OK," she interrupted him. "Our baby's more important. I know we got through what happened last time but it'd kill us to go through it again, especially now that we're already falling in love with it. This one's gonna make it. It has to."

"And it will," he said, kissing her forehead. "I know it."

She smiled. He couldn't decipher what was going through her head.

"What?" he asked her.

"I can't believe this is even happening. Can you?"

"Not really," he chuckled. "I never thought I'd be the type to settle down and all that. I think both of us used to be like that. I guess we just got lucky, finding each other the way we did."

"Yeah," she breathed. Peter rubbed his hand in a circle over Olivia's belly, making her chuckle at how quickly he'd become addicted to touching her like this. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry. Is it making you uncomfortable?"

"No, it's fine," she laughed. "I'm just not used to it."

"Well, get used to it," he laughed back. "Coz once we start telling people everyone's gonna want to touch you."

"See that's what I meant when I said we should wait a bit just to enjoy this for ourselves. Just for a little while."

"I think it's a good choice." He snuggled a little closer to her. "I wonder if it's a boy or a girl."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Not really, as long as it's happy and healthy, I guess. But I wouldn't mind having a beautiful little blonde girl who reminds me of her mum," he teased, kissing her cheek.

She laughed. "Well, maybe I wouldn't mind a little boy who looks just like you, but we'll see what we get. A mix of the two of us would be perfect."

"Well, that's the whole point of genetics, right? 23 chromosomes from each parent and all that. But you're right, it would be perfect."

Olivia smiled nervously to herself.

"Livia, what's wrong?"

She bit her lip. "Peter, I've got no idea what I'm doing."

"Neither do I. Are you sure you don't want to tell our friends? Rachael and Charlie might be able to give us some advice."

"Not yet. Let's wait just a little while longer."

"OK. Well, how about we call Broyles and tell him what's going on with Walter and the baby? We can take the day off, see a doctor, get some books, and figure out what the hell we're doing here."

"And get ice cream. I'm really fiending for some mint choc chip. With fudge. And marshmallows."

Peter hit his forehead with his palm, groaning. "Jeez, it's like looking after another Walter." She chuckled and he kissed her cheek, sitting up in bed. "Alright, missy. We'll get you your ice cream right after we call Broyles and book an appointment with a doctor."

"OK." She put a hand on his cheek to pull her to him and kissed him fully. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Both of you."

She smiled. "So we're really doing this, huh? You ready?"

"Not at all," he laughed. "But we're already parents - there's no going back now."

"No, I guess not. But I know we can handle it."

"Yeah. I think all we really need to do is love it, and we can figure out the rest as we go on." He squeezed her hand and they started getting ready for the long day ahead of them, anxious and excited about the future of their new family. Only one thing was certain. Their lives were never going to be the same.

**Please review, loyal readers! Always appreciate your input : )**


	9. A Welcome Face

**References: Walter/Olivia convo (Road Not Taken), "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you" (The Last Sam Weiss), "the strongest" (Momentum Deferred), "greatest achievement" (Over There: Part 2), Regina's Pizza (Os), Kashner (Dream Logic), "because you asked" (Firefly), **

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You didn't read when you were a kid?"

"Livia, I was a troublemaker in primary school. I wasn't one for reading."

"But you were smart, though, right? You must have read _something_ - you know, when you weren't putting pipe bombs in the sandpit," Olivia teased.

Peter finally gave in, smiling softly as he drove. "OK, well I read a lot of comic books when I was a kid. I didn't get into real books until I was a teenager – Lord of the Rings, Catcher in the Rye, stuff like that."

"Catcher in the Rye?" she smirked. "I can actually really picture that being your bible when you were an angsty teenage boy."

He laughed to himself. "You're not wrong there," he admitted. "Why? What was your favourite book when you were a little kid?"

Just before she could answer, she got a phone call. "Sorry," she muttered to him, answering the phone and talking to someone.

"Everything OK?" he asked as she hung up.

"Yeah. Just Broyles asking me to pick up something from the lab on the way to work."

Peter sighed. "Olivia, are you sure you want to? I'm sure you could ask another agent."

Olivia just smiled and shook her head. "I need to do this. I still have questions for Walter about…what he and Bell did to me."

"If you're sure."

"I am. Are you sure you don't want to come with me? He might be able to shed some light on certain things for you, too."

"No," he said vehemently. "I can't talk to him. I just can't."

"That's OK," she said softly, resting her hand over his on the steering wheel. She felt him soften under her touch, as she knew he would.

Eventually Peter stopped the car outside the lab and turned to his wife. "You gonna be OK in there?"

"Peter, I'll be fine." She couldn't help the frustration that edged into her voice.

"You better be," he smirked. "Coz I don't want to get a call from Walter's poor new assistant saying you put the old guy in a coma."

She chuckled. "I can handle him. And I promise, he'll make it out alive." She kissed him. "Wait for me. I'll be back in a sec, OK?"

"OK. I love you," he said, kissing her back and briefly placing a warm hand over her stomach where their child was growing.

She smiled. "I love you, too," she said, getting out and heading down to Walter's lab.

She found the old man sitting at one of his desks, engrossed in his work. The room was filled with empty pizza boxes and fast food packaging. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a week - or slept, for that matter. He looked almost as hopeless as he did the day she first met him at St Claire's. In the pit of her stomach, she knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Olivia…?"

"Hi Walter," she managed to get out, her voice strained. There was a light smell hanging in the air – stale alcohol and marijuana. It was putrid, and she could feel herself start to gag.

"Dear, is everything alright?" she vaguely heard Walter ask.

"I'll be back in a sec, Walter," she muttered, rushing to the bathroom at the back of the lab and throwing up the breakfast she and Peter had made together that morning. On her knees by the toilet, she rubbed her eyes and swore under her breath. It was starting, she realised – the morning sickness, the extra sensitivity to smell. She threw up one more time before she was confident it was over. Rinsing her mouth out and popping a couple of Tic Tacs, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered how bad this sickness was going to get. Eventually she went back out to meet Walter, trying to act as if things were normal.

"Agent Dunham? Are you alright, dear?"

She nodded. "Sorry. I've just got the flu, that's all," she lied. "But I didn't come here to talk about me being sick, Walter."

"No," he agreed, bowing his head. "No, of course you didn't."

"Where's your new assistant?"

"She went to get some things…to clean up all this," he muttered, gesturing to the enormous mess he'd made.

"Well, I was sent to pick up some files -"

"Over here," he said, hinting to a set of booklets on the table between them.

She picked them up, flicked through them. "Thank you."

"Does he hate me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Peter."

She thought hard about her answer. The truth was yes. Peter did hate his father right now, but the reason it hurt so much was because there was a tiny part of him - the innermost part - that still had some compassion for the man who had raised him. So she just said, "Peter's finding this very difficult."

"And you?"

She gritted her teeth, trying to curb her anger. "There's one thing I've been trying to get my head around but I can't understand it. Peter's from the other world, so I have the capability to see his glimmer. I've only ever seen it twice. Why?"

Walter sighed, preparing his answer. "Naturally your abilities would have become dormant with age and a long-term lack of exposure to Cortexiphan. To have experienced those abilities after all these years, something must have happened to cause you to be activated."

"Activated?"

"If I wanted to activate a Cortexiphan subject, I'd have to take them back to Jacksonville where they were first introduced to the drug, give them another dosage, and allow them to experience a specific situation. You see, Cortexiphan subjects often found that their abilities were far more effectively activated in response to an emotional context that was specific to them – anger, confusion, fear…" He thought about it some more, and Olivia would see the wheels turning in his head. "But you've never come across Cortexiphan since your childhood."

"I was scared," she admitted. "Both times I saw the glimmer I was scared. The first was three years ago, when I was rescued from ZFT's trafficking ring. I was injured, and delirious and half-high on heroin… I had always assumed it was the drugs."

"In a way it was," Walter explained. "The drugs plus your fear must have chemically and emotionally triggered those long-dormant abilities in your mind."

She nodded, trying to make sense of all this.

"What about last week?" he asked her.

"Sorry?"

"When you last saw the glimmer."

She swallowed, not wanting to tell Walter everything. "I was afraid again."

"You weren't taking drugs?"

"No, Walter. Of course not."

"Then I would say you saw the glimmer when you experienced a certain extreme emotion, in your case fear, in addition to another substance in your body to chemically trigger Cortexiphan's effects. It may have been a drug, or medication you were taking, or a hormone - some kind of substance your body wasn't used to."

Hormones, she thought. She was pregnant, her body was going under massive chemical changes. Maybe that was what helped trigger the glimmer?

"Agent Dunham? Are you alright?"

Olivia ran a hand through her hair, thinking it was about time she changed the subject. "We've been looking through the Pattern cases, trying to find connections between them," she said coldly, preparing for an argument. "I've noticed that a few cases involved people with extraordinary abilities they couldn't explain. They all came from Jacksonville, just like me, all born in the same year. Nancy Lewis, Susan Pratt, James Heath…ringing any bells?"

Walter remained silent, staring at the floor.

"How many of us were there, Walter? What the hell did you people do to us in those drug trials?"

"They were Belly's. They were his trials."

"But you knew! Walter, you were there and you knew."

"We were trying to help," he wept. "We meant no harm."

"No harm? You were drugging _children_," she spat. "Three-year-old children, Walter. Why did you do it?"

"We were trying to prepare you. To make you capable. Able." His face crumbled.  
>"Something terrible is coming."<p>

"_What?_"

"I don't know," he whimpered.

"Walter, what did you do to us?"

"I don't know."

"Damn it, Walter, you do!"

"No, I don't!" he sobbed. "I don't. I - I can't remember. I'm sorry."

As she watched the old man cry, her heart almost broke for him – but she wouldn't let it. She had too much anger in her. Getting up to leave, she gathered the files in her hands and walked away.

"Olivia," he called after her.

She stopped, turning back.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," he said softly. "You have no idea how extraordinary you are. Of all the children Belly and I prepared, you were the strongest. You were always the strongest – our greatest achievement. You can't see it now, but what we did to you as a child… It made you special, Olivia."

She didn't know what to say to that. Jones had used that same word: "Special". It almost sickened her. Child experimentation was not something that could be played off as beneficial when it was clearly harming people. She just turned away, leaving the lab and charging down the corridor, struggling to keep her anger in check.

"Olivia?"

She stopped dead. She hadn't heard that voice in years. She spun around to find someone she almost never thought she'd see again. In that moment all her anger was forgotten, and an enormous smile blossomed on her face.

"_Astrid?_"

The young woman giggled through those beautiful frizzy tendrils of hair and gave Olivia a huge hug. "Oh my gosh, Olivia!"

"Hi!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I haven't seen you since graduation at the Academy."

"I know, it's been so long. I'm sorry I fell out of contact."

"Oh no, it's my fault. Do you still hear from the others?" Olivia asked.

"I lost contact with Brandon. Kent, Amy and I still stay in touch – we worked together in the New York office until I got transferred here. I heard John's deployed in Afghanistan with the marines right now, but that's about it. What about you?"

"Well, Charlie and I have been working together here since we were interns, and Peter-"

"Peter, the cute bartender? I thought he moved to South Africa"

Olivia smiled. "He did, but he came back a few months later. Actually, we got back together the year I started my internship."

"Wow. So do you still hear from him? Like, are you still together?"

Olivia beamed. "Yeah, we're married."

Astrid's jaw dropped. "Get out!" she teased.

"No, I'm serious. It's been about eight months."

"No, I don't believe you. There's no way you, Olivia Dunham, got married so young."

Olivia showed Astrid her ring. "If you still don't believe me you can ask him yourself -"

"Oh my gosh, you weren't kidding!" Astrid exclaimed, grabbing Olivia's hand excitedly and admiring the ring before enveloping her in another enormous hug. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, Astrid. It'd be great for you to see Peter and Charlie again. We were all going to go to this pizza place for lunch, if you want to come."

"Sure. Where?"

"Regina's on 22nd street, it's right around the corner from the Federal Building. About 1pm?"

"Cool. See you there then."

"Great. It's so good to see you, Astrid."

"You too, Olivia," Astrid said, beaming.

And with that, Olivia was on her way again, her day having gone from terrible to unexpectedly wonderful. But that was Astrid - she always had a way of making people smile, even on their worst day.

* * *

><p>Peter and Olivia were walking down the street to Regina's holding hands when they bumped into Astrid. "Peter!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him.<p>

"Hey, Astrid!" he laughed back, hugging her. "Long time, no see."

"I know, it's crazy, huh? We haven't seen each other in like four or five years. So much has changed! Like you two getting married, for one."

"Yeah, I'm a lucky guy," he said, grinning and squeezing Olivia's hand as they all kept walking.

"She didn't believe me when I told her," Olivia laughed. "I had to show her my ring as proof."

"Hey! I couldn't help but second-guess it, since you were Miss-I'm-never-getting-married back in college."

Olivia laughed and rolled her eyes. "Gosh, remember those days? Seems like a million years ago."

It wasn't long before they met up with the Charlie and Lincoln outside Regina's. When he saw her, Charlie smiled brightly and gave Astrid a huge hug. "Look at you, kiddo!" he laughed. "All grown up, huh? How's things?"

"Really good. I'm excited to be in Boston. How about you?"

"Yeah, things are pretty good. Work's keeping us busy, though."

"You know Charlie's married too, right?" Peter asked Astrid.

"What? No way!"

"Yeah, to Sonya."

"Oh, that girl you always talked about at the Academy?" she asked Charlie. "That's so sweet."

"They had a little girl last year, too, she's so beautiful."

"Yeah, she's lucky she takes after her mum. Imagine having _that_ face," Lincoln joked, feigning disgust at Charlie's head. He offered his hand to Astrid. "Hey, I'm Lincoln."

She shook it, smiling. "Astrid. Nice to meet you."

They all went inside to wait in line, and soon enough they were all sitting down laughing over Academy stories. They talked about their evil teachers (some of whom had apparently taught Lincoln as well), crazy muck-up day experiences, and awful bouts of exercise torture in their Physical Training lessons. Olivia brought up how they used to study by doing shots on the roof of Peter's bar, Peter mentioned the surprise party they gave Olivia on that rooftop (where they had their first kiss), Charlie remembered how they all went camping and taught him how to swim, and Astrid couldn't stop giggling about that time Brandon got stuck in a tree on Muck-up day. Even though Lincoln didn't train with them, he had some great stories to share too. Lincoln and Peter both shared a love for science, so they agreed to have a robot fight one day just like Peter had with Brandon back in Quantico.

It felt like they were all back in college again, even if it was just for a little while. It was a good feeling. But it wasn't long before they all got messages calling them off to work. Their jobs were unpredictable like that. Olivia was supposed to go and question a witness to one of the Pattern cases with Lincoln, but she had some time to spare, so she stopped by a shop to pick something up before meeting Lincoln to go.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, while Olivia was out working with Lincoln, Peter went back to the Federal Building to find a package from Boarders sitting on his desk. Opening it, he found a beautiful children's book, with bright, colourful drawings on the cover of a little boy standing on the edge of a planet, looking out over the stars. The paper felt precious in his hands as his fingertips traced over the embossed gold title. It was <em>The Little Prince<em> by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. He laughed to himself. His teachers had tried to make him read this in primary school, but he never did. Flicking to the first page, he found a note from Olivia.

_Peter, _

_Because you asked, _

_Olivia. _

_ps. Our kids will love it when you read them this book_

Peter felt his heart swell. Their world was so chaotic, with hectic cases at work and problems with Walter, but the baby was the only thing that was constant and perfect. Carefully putting the book away, he got back to work. But he couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was getting home to read that book, wondering what it would be like to sit down by their baby's bed at night, telling them stories until they fell asleep.

Peter smiled to himself. He loved the thought of that.

**Please Review! The reviews for this story have dropped a lot lately so thank you to those who have been giving me input. I'm writing a good 3000 words every few days for you guys so a sentence or two or feedback from the readers is always nice to see.**

**Coming up next: pregnancy issues, romance drama, and a new development in the case. Lots happening! Stay tuned…**


	10. Sick

**References: tribe of Bishops (The Day We Died), the Artist (Inner Child), **

**Song lyrics: Lips of an Angel by Hinder**

Peter woke to a cold bed and a retching sound coming from the bathroom. Rubbing his eyes, he got out of bed and wandered over to his wife, who was kneeling by the toilet emptying the contents of her stomach. "Oh Liv," he whispered, kneeling beside her and holding her hair back and rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. "You OK?"

"I hate this," she muttered. Her morning sickness had only really become routine within the last week or so, something they were both still getting used to. Olivia felt like the whole room was spinning and rested her sweaty forehead into Peter's chest.

"What can I do, Livia? You want some tea or something?"

She shook her head. Not knowing what to do, Peter just kept rubbing her back as she tried to take deep breaths and push through the nausea. "Fuck," she muttered, turning away from him and throwing up again. The acrid taste left tears in her eyes and she cringed, wiping her mouth and leaning back against him.

Worrying, he smoothed some damp hair out of her face, feeling her clammy skin. "You sure it's supposed to be this bad?"

"That's what the doctor said. I just have to tough it out until it passes."

"OK. What do you want me to make for breakfast?"

"I don't know that I can handle eating right now."

"Wait a while," he said, rubbing her back. "You'll be hungry when this stops, and you and the baby need to stay well fed. I don't care if you only eat a little bit, but you're eating something."

She nodded. "Maybe just cut up some fruit?"

"Sure."

She sighed. "I think it's over."

"Do you want to go lie down?"

Olivia nodded and he helped her up, letting her brush her teeth and go back to bed while he got some food for her. He couldn't imagine what this was like for her, waking up sick every morning because her hormones were going haywire. He wondered how long this was going to go on for. It was frustrating for both of them, not knowing what to do or how to handle it. They'd never done any of this before and while they were overjoyed with why it was happening, it scared them half to death too.

Peter took some fruit back to the bedroom and put it on her bedside table, kneeling down and brushing a thumb across her cheek as she tried to rest. "You OK, beautiful?"

She nodded and forced a small smile. She wasn't sure how much her stomach could take at this point, taking a chunk of pear from the plate he had brought and nibbling at it slowly.

Peter laughed. "You eat like a bird."

"Shut up," she teased, smiling.

He kissed her forehead and moved his hand from her cheek down to her flat belly, imagining the things to come. "Just think, every day you go through all this crap is another day closer to meeting our baby."

"Hmm," she assented, smiling and closing her eyes. Peter's warm hand gave her comfort, but what he'd said had also made her a little uneasy. "We have a lot to do," she realised out loud, her voice soft. "We're getting closer every day and we still need to figure out hospital costs and get baby supplies and choose names and -"

"And tell people?"

"Peter, you know I don't want to tell people yet. The doctor said our risks of having another miscarriage go down significantly once we hit the three month mark."

"That still leaves us with a little over a month before we tell anyone. That's a long time, Olivia."

"I know, but…" She clenched her eyes shut at the memory, shaking her head.

"Liv…" he murmured, stroking her hair.

"Peter, I…" she started, tears hanging in her eyes. "You know how hard losing the last one was, for both of us. But you didn't have to tell anybody what happened. I had to tell you and Charlie and that was the worst part of the whole thing for me. Telling _you_ was the worst part. I can't do that again. I can't tell people we're having a baby and get them all excited only to tell them later than we lost it. You don't understand. I can't do it."

"OK," he said softly, not realising just how worried she had been about this. "Liv, this one will make it."

"I know. I hope so, anyway. I just don't want to take the chance, I guess. I know we can handle whatever happens and we're being extra careful with work and stuff, so I want us to keep moving forward without worrying about the dangers. It's telling people too early that scares me. But it's only another few weeks to wait."

"That's OK," he said, kissing her. "For now he or she will be just between us. They'll be only ours. But who knows? Maybe we'll choose to tell people early next time around."

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Next time?"

"Who says we'll only have one kid? I bet we'll have two, maybe three. A little tribe of Bishops."

She laughed. "Who says the kids are getting your name?"

"Come on, it's bad enough you didn't change your name when we got married."

"Neither did you."

"That's not the point. The kids are getting my name. Or a combination."

"That's just sexist. What if I want a tribe of Dunhams?"

"Gosh, we're not gonna have this fight yet, are we?"

"I'm sure we can save it for a few months down the track." She smiled, cupping his cheek and kissing him back, making both their hearts swell. They both knew this would be a hard stretch, but they could do it together. All three of them.

* * *

><p>Later on when they went to work, Peter and Charlie had to go investigate a lead on one of the Pattern cases, so Lincoln and Olivia tried to do some research at the Federal Building.<p>

"Hey, Dunham!" somebody shouted across the room. She walked over to another agent, Ray, who handed her a fax. "You remember this guy?"

Looking down at the fax, her stomach dropped. It was from The Artist, she could tell. It was an old serial killer case she and the others had worked last year – she'd even studied his early killings at the Academy. But they'd never caught him. She'd worked tirelessly on that case and to this day considered it one of her biggest failures. They'd always assumed he was dead or in jail for another crime, until now.

But then she looked a little closer. "Ray, are you sure this isn't a fake? Or a copycat?"

"Why do you say that?"

"The Artist's usual faxes are invitations to his 'exhibitions', when he later displays the body of his victim. All he ever gave us were the names of the cities where the bodies would be found. This guy's sending us a specific address."

"Maybe he's advancing. Serial killers do that."

"Maybe," she said pensively. "Try and trace where it came from, I'll get a team together to check out the address."

* * *

><p>When she and Lincoln parked in front of the house, Broyles was already waiting for them on the front steps. Their boss was spooky like that. No matter where he was, he somehow always managed to beat you to the crime scene.<p>

Olivia walked up with Lincoln and gestured towards the house. "Do you think it's really The Artist?" she asked Broyles.

Broyles just looked at her in that overly serious way he did when things were bad.

"What is it?"

"You should see for yourself."

Lincoln and Olivia followed him through the front door of the house, the smell of a body already making Olivia gag. As the agents all put cream under their noses, Olivia was reminded of her first crime scene as a junior agent, when Lincoln taught her that trick to block the smell, and how afterwards, when she was overwhelmed by seeing her first butchered body, he had comforted her as she cried. But when Broyles eventually led them into the last room, all those thoughts were thrown out of her head.

The victim was tied up against a banister. Hair dyed, skin dyed, clothes changed. All the usual markers of The Artist, except one.

"The victim's male?"

"We're trying to ID him as we speak. Forensics just started putting his DNA through databases, hoping we'll get a match."

"This isn't his house?"

"No, it's vacant."

"It's got to be a copycat," said Lincoln.

Olivia stopped for a moment, trying to keep the smell of the body from getting to her. But she couldn't. She closed her eyes, trying to keep the nausea at bay.

"Agent Dunham, are you alright?"

"Sorry. Just give me a sec," she said quickly, running back outside to get some fresh air and sitting on the front steps of the house.

Lincoln came jogging after her. "Liv. You OK?"

She nodded, putting her head in her hands and trying to take deep breaths.

Lincoln knelt beside her. "You look a little green. You sure you're OK? You don't normally get this way at crime scenes."

"I'm fine," she said, swallowing. "I've just been a bit sick lately. The body isn't helping."

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. The nausea was making her ears ring and her head spin. Somewhere a little further off, she vaguely heard one of the male agents make a teasing remark about her being a lightweight, and Lincoln's sharp response. But she wasn't listening. All she wanted was for her body to be her own again. But it would be another seven months before that was possible.

Broyles came up behind them and she stood up quickly, brushing off the nausea. "Dunham, are you alright?"

"Yes, sir," she said, but as usual she didn't convince him.

"Agent Lee, why don't you drive Agent Dunham back to the Federal Building. She may be of better use there."

"Yes, sir."

"Broyles, please let me stay, I'm fine."

"No, Dunham. You're not well. It's best that you stay out of the crime scene."

"Wait in the car," Lincoln suggested. "I'll probably be out of here in 20 minutes anyway, seeing as we just came to do an overview while forensics work on the scene. Besides, we don't need you throwing up on any evidence," he teased.

Realising that neither of her bosses were going to give her another choice, she nodded, taking Lincoln's keys and going to lie down in the back seat of his black SUV. When she managed to soothe herself a bit, she checked her phone for new messages out of boredom. She didn't have any texts, but she had over a dozen new emails since she last checked them an hour ago. Scrolling through her inbox, she realised they were from Peter.

Surprised, she opened the first one.

It merely said, "_Ryan?_"

She opened the next one. "_Sasha?_"

Then the next. "_Chloe?_"

An excited smile crept onto Olivia's face as she clicked through each and every email Peter had sent her from the lab, mentally evaluating each potential baby name he'd suggested.

"_Andrea?_"

"_Ethan?_"

"_What about Julie?_"

"_Connor?_"

"_Daniel?_"

"_Remy?_"

"_Will?_"

"_Grace? (That's your middle name, right?)_"

"_Cassie?_"

"_Michael?_"

"_Frodo? (jokes)_"

She laughed as she read through the huge list of names and started typing a response:

_Jeez, somebody got bored at work ; )_

_Some of these are great. For a boy I love Ethan, Ryan and Daniel. Not Will. Michael and Connor are OK but I'm not sure. _

_What's wrong with Frodo? I was going to suggest Gandalf myself ; )_

_For a girl I love Andrea and Julie. Not Grace, coz it's my middle name (but I appreciate your sentiment, lol). Baby girl deserves her own name. Maybe Sasha. Not Remy, Cassie or Chloe. _

_Have you thought about these: Aaron, Marcus, Liam, Josh, Tommy, Laura, Anna, Caitlin, Ashley, Eva?_

_*sigh* You and I have some thinking to do…_

_See you at home, love you,_

_O_

_Ps. Baby's making me sick again. I'm just about ready to kill you for doing this to me. You probably think I'm joking, but I'm not. It's driving me nuts : (_

She sent it off, sighing. While she thought Peter's emails were sweet, reading hadn't been a good idea in the state she was in. Starting to feel the nausea bite back at her, she groaned and closed her eyes, trying to calm her body down. After a while she turned on Lincoln's CD player, hoping the music would distract her.

Lying back, she let the slow sound of an electric guitar wash over her. It was a song she actually liked. It had only just come out last month so it was a new favourite.

_Honey why are you calling me so late?  
>It's kinda hard to talk right now<br>Honey why are you crying, is everything okay?  
>I gotta whisper cause I can't be too loud<em>

_Well, my girl's in the next room_  
><em>Sometimes I wish she was you<em>  
><em>I guess we never really moved on<em>

_It's really good to hear your voice saying my name_  
><em>It sounds so sweet<em>  
><em>Coming from the lips of an angel<em>  
><em>Hearing those words it makes me weak<em>

_And I never wanna say goodbye_  
><em>But girl you make it hard to be faithful<em>  
><em>With the lips of an angel<em>

One of the car doors opened and she felt Lincoln standing beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You OK back here?"

She nodded, her eyes still closed. "You have good taste in music. I always picked you as the type to listen to semi-romantic stuff, but not rock music," she teased.

"Ouch. I love my rock music, and I'm not one for romantic songs, thank you very much. This song's an exception though. Besides, guy love songs are different to girl love songs."

"Really now?"

"When girls write love songs it's all about how awesome and perfect everything is with that person. Guys always write about how messed up things are. Like 'Oh no, I've met the girl of my dreams but I'm a starving musician so the bitch left me for a rich guy'. Crap like that."

"Ah. I see. Speaking of romance, how's it going with that girl?" she asked him, still resting her eyes.

"What girl?"

"That blonde you introduced me to a while back."

"Oh," he said, his voice slightly dampened. He shrugged. "Didn't work out."

"That's a shame."

_Well my girl's in the next room  
>Sometimes I wish she was you<br>I guess we never really moved on_

Lincoln was quite for a while. He got into the car, sitting on the edge of the seat she was lying down on and closing the door. Her eyes still closed, she felt the hand that was on her shoulder tentatively move up to wipe some hair from her face as he watched over her. "You sure you're OK?"

She nodded, though she was still trying to curb the sickness. "Lincoln, I'm fine."

_It's really good to hear your voice saying my name  
>It sounds so sweet<br>Coming from the lips of an angel  
>Hearing those words it makes me weak<em>

He got quiet again. She felt his fingertips gently trace her hairline, his palm resting against her cheek.

"Lincoln?"

She felt his warm breath on her face and her eyes snapped open. Lincoln started away, shocked at himself, his eyes just as wide as hers. She withdrew from him just as quickly. Then they both sat still. They stayed that way for a long time, just staring at each other.

His eyes dropped. "I'm sorry," he finally got out, unable to look at her.

She couldn't say anything back. Her mind was going a mile a minute. Had Lincoln seriously just tried to kiss her?

"I'm sorry," he said again, getting out of the car and moving around to the front seat. Still absorbing the shock of it all, she went around to sit beside him.

He started driving. The silence was unbearable the whole time. Olivia couldn't believe what had just happened, and what was worse, she couldn't help going over it a thousand times in her head. Lincoln was the first to speak up. "Are you still feeling sick?" he asked, his voice dampened and his eyes not wavering once from the road.

"No."

"Drink some water."

"I'm fine."

He sighed. "Fuck, Liv, I'm really sorry."

"What the hell were you thinking?" she asked, her words controlled but emphatic. "Lincoln, you know I'm married."

"I know. I know… It just happened, I guess."

"Do you honestly think I'd do something like that to Peter? You have to know me better than that."

"I do. I know how much you love him."

"I mean, what was that? Do you… Do you still have feelings for me?"

He went quiet again.

"Lincoln, nothing is ever going to happen between us," she said. "I'm sorry, but I really thought I'd made that clear. We went out one time three or four years ago and we decided -"

"No, _you_ decided. You decided it was a bad idea and we should just be friends - that wasn't me."

"Well you could have fucking said something instead of harbouring it all these years."

He scoffed. "Like I ever had a chance with you, Liv. Even on that one night we did try it, I could already tell Peter had you in the palm of his hand. Only trouble was you didn't know it yet." He finally brought himself to look at her. "You're not gonna tell him about this, are you?"

"Why? Are you scared of him?"

"Shouldn't I be? You married a fucking criminal, Liv."

"Don't you dare. Peter's a good man, you know that."

"Please," he scoffed. "When I first met him he'd just gotten out of prison in South Africa. I came to pick you up for our date and all he did was try and intimidate me like some thug."

"Well, maybe that's why he deserves me more than you do. Did you ever think of that?"

"What, because he's an ex-con?"

"No. Because even when we weren't together - even when he didn't have a right to - Peter always fought for me. He took risks. He persevered. You just gave up as soon as I said no. Now you're just a selfish idiot who hides his feelings for three fucking years and then tries to fuck up his friends' marriage just so he can get what he wants. That's who you are. And that's why I will always choose Peter over anyone else. Especially cowardly pricks like you."

"Say what you want about me, Liv, but one of these days, he's going to hurt you. The guy's an asshole, Olivia – you really think he's changed? Conning people is what he does best and you're just falling for it. Soon enough he's gonna fuck someone else or beat the shit out of you or something, and when he does I won't be there."

"You're so full of shit, Lincoln," she spat.

They were both silent for a while as Olivia weighed her options. She knew if she told Peter that he'd go nuts and probably kill him, and after all, Lincoln had been a good friend to her over the years.

"I won't tell him," she finally said. "Or Broyles. That's based on the condition that you don't tell anyone, not even Charlie. But I swear to God, Lincoln, if anything like this _ever_ happens again I will tell them everything, and you won't be able to run fast enough. Got it?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Lincoln you've known that nothing was going to happen between us for too long now. You have to move on. At least accept that I have. Lincoln, I'm in love with Peter. I'm married now. I'm…"

"What, Olivia?"

"Nothing," she muttered, catching herself before she could blurt out that she was pregnant. Crossing her arms, she turned to stare out the window, wondering how on earth her life got to be this crazy.

* * *

><p>Once they were all back at the Federal Building, Lincoln and Olivia avoided each other at all costs. Not that anybody noticed – everyone was working frantically on this new Artist case. Charlie ran up to Olivia, thrusting a file in her face. "Ray said there was no useful trace on the fax, but guess what forensics just found."<p>

"What is it?"

"They ran the victim's DNA through a criminal database, right? Well they got a few hits."

"So we can ID him?"

"No. It's worse. They couldn't get a name, but his DNA was present in several of The Artist's crime scenes."

"Wait… You're telling me that the victim _is_ The Artist?"

"It appears so."

"Who would kill The Artist?"

Charlie shrugged. "Victim's friend, family member…"

"No, if they did it the MO would show rage, this guy was too controlled in how he killed him. Besides, how would they find out who he was before us? Charlie, you know how hard we all worked on that case last year. I've gone through the case file a thousand times over, there was no way we could have caught him. He was too good."

"Well, whoever did must be better informed than we were."

"Other criminals?"

"Perhaps." Charlie smirked. "Can you imagine when the tabloids get a hold of this? A serial killer we couldn't catch for years gets taken out by another psycho we can't catch? Heads are gonna roll over this."

"Shit," Olivia muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Well, whatever happens, we have to find out who did this now."

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Broyles said, coming out of nowhere. "Everybody listen up!"

The entire bustling room immediately went quiet. Peter walked over next to Olivia. "What's going on?" he asked her.

"I don't know."

Broyles came to stand in the centre of the room so he could be seen. "We just received another fax in the same style as the one we received this morning. As most of you have just learned, the serial killer known as The Artist was the murder victim found this morning in Weymouth, and this fax has David Robert Jones owning up to the murder. I don't care what cases you're working on. Drop them. If you're not already on my Jones taskforce, you're on it now. I don't care what it takes. Find him."

The room dissolved into a frantic buzz again as agents got to work. Broyles strode over to Olivia where she was standing with Peter. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "But you two are going under a detail again."

This day just keeps getting better, Olivia thought. But she bit her tongue and nodded obediently to her boss. "What did the fax say?"

He handed it to her, and she held it so Peter could read through it with her, their stomachs dropping. It was a photo of the body they'd found this morning, all posed and dressed up in The Artist's style, with a message at the bottom:

_A present for you, my girl. I know how much you wanted to catch him._

_I'll be in touch soon, Olivia._

_Sincerely,_

_DRJ_

**Please review! Sorry that was long and eventful but next chap is lighter, I promise : )**


	11. See through the static

**References: "If you're happy I am too" (Immortality), Lincoln not keeping secrets (Immortality), Walter and Peter discussion (The Box), Dr Ross (Marionette) **

Olivia was heading out of the Fringe Division office when she heard a voice call her name. She knew who it was before she turned around. Lincoln was standing down the corridor with a resigned look on his face. "Liv, can we talk?"

She nodded, but didn't move, forcing him to come to her. Bowing his head, he slowly approached her, trying to figure out his words. "Liv, how much longer are we going to keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Livia, I've apologised like three times for what I did and said the other day, and you say that it's been dealt with and you want to act like nothing happened but then you still won't talk to me. How much longer are we going to keep pretending things are OK in front of the others when really it's like we're not even friends anymore?"

"Are we friends anymore?" she asked him bluntly.

He seemed taken aback by that. "I was hoping we could be. Don't you want to be?"

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. In all honesty, she was conflicted. She and Lincoln had been great friends from the start, but it was never like what she had with Charlie. She and Charlie were like brother and sister, on equal footing, whereas Lincoln always wanted more of her than she wanted of him. That's just the way it had always been. And they'd both denied it and bottled for years it until it exploded in their faces last week.

"I do," she finally said. "I just need time. You get that, right?"

"Sure. Of course."

She shook her head, thumbing her lip in that way she always did when she was upset. "Lincoln, I just… I don't get it," she confessed. "I honestly don't understand what happened last week. I mean I know why you did it, but I don't understand how you could say those things you said about my husband afterwards. Peter's been your friend for years, how could you say that?"

He exhaled, contemplating how to answer her question. "That's what hurt you most, isn't it, Liv?"

She nodded. "I just want to know why. I mean, is Peter even your friend at all?"

"Of course he is, Liv. I just…" He lost his words. Looking on as he struggled to find them again, Olivia could see the regret he was carrying. Lincoln, as a person, had always been sincere above all else. He couldn't keep a secret, but he couldn't tell a lie either – you could always tell when he was lying to you, just by the discomfort in his eyes. "Liv, I think some of it had to do with jealousy. That much is obvious, but… A lot of it was rage, too – at myself, really, for what I did to you. I never wanted to, it just…I lost control of myself, and I hated that. I was embarrassed, I was angry and I just wanted to lash out at anything that I could. The words just came after that. But I promise, Olivia, I really do regret them. All of them."

"I know," she said quietly.

"This is probably going to sound ridiculous," he said, running a hand over his face. "But really I am your friend Olivia – whether you know it or not – and as your friend the biggest thing I want is for you to be happy. I think in that moment in the car I lost sight of that and I was only thinking about myself. But jeez, Liv, you've had enough shit in your life without me adding to it, and Peter really does make you happy, anyone can see that. So I'm sorry. And I really hope you can believe be when I say that if you're happy, I am too."

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She could feel herself softening to Lincoln again and she didn't want to forgive him yet. She was always too stubborn that way. "Lincoln, I really can't talk about this right now. I have to go to the lab to pick up Peter."

Lincoln looked puzzled. "Since when does Peter go to the lab these days?"

"He's trying to start talking to Walter again."

"Oh. That's good. I hope things get better for them."

"Me too. Sorry, Lincoln, I really have to go," she said again, trying not to look at him as she pushed past him to continue down the corridor. She knew she could avoid him forever, but she just couldn't handle it right now.

At the lab she found Astrid cleaning up after another one of Walter's cooking sprees. "Hey, Astrid."

"Oh hi, Olivia. Sorry this place is such a mess."

"It's fine. I know what Walter's like."

Astrid gave her a tired smile and put down what she was cleaning, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Is Peter still with Walter?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah. They're um…in the back office trying to sort things out."

"Oh. OK."

"Yeah. I hope they can start putting things back together. You should have seen them a few months ago, they were so happy together. I can't imagine how hard it is for him."

"I'm sure you can, in a way," said Astrid. "After all, Walter's hurt you too, and you are his daughter-in-law."

Olivia gave her a wry smile. "I guess I'd never really thought of it like that before."

Astrid turned behind her to grab a file and set it on the desk. "Here's the autopsy report for The Artist."

"Thank you."

"Are you scared about Jones?"

"No," she said honestly. Astrid silently hinted for her to elaborate, and she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself subconsciously. "After all the people he's killed since he escaped, I'm sure he could have easily killed me by now if that's what he wanted. Whatever he wants from me must have something to do with the Cortexiphan – there's no other reason I can think of for him to have any interest in me. Plus I'm surrounded by cops and a too-protective husband all day, nobody's going to hurt me."

"I'm sure you're right, Olivia," Astrid assured her with a warm smile. "You and Peter always were able to get through the worst life threw at you. Even when we were students, I remember things were never easy for you. You've had some bad luck, but you're the strongest people I know. You've loved each other enough to get through anything. And look at you now. You're married, you've got a baby on the way…"

"Wait, hold on. What?" Olivia said suddenly.

"Congratulations," Astrid giggled, her smile shining brightly through the tendrils of her frizzy hair.

"Who told you?"

"Nobody. I figured it out."

"How?" Olivia asked, still shocked.

Astrid shrugged. "Women just know sometimes. Besides, you've been glowing like crazy lately."

Olivia laughed. "Me? I don't _glow_."

"Trust me, you do. You just don't know it. How long have you been pregnant?"

"Almost three months. Astrid, please don't say anything. We're not telling people yet."

"It's OK. Your secret's safe with me."

"I know," said Olivia, smiling and giving her friend a warm, tight hug. "I've always been able to trust you."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Peter was struggling with how to talk to Walter. They'd never really been great communicators – especially now since they were both in a place where they wanted things to improve between them while still holding something back.<p>

"I'm trying to see this your way, Walter," Peter finally said, running a hand over his face. "I can't."

Walter nodded, trying to think of a way to get through to Peter. Tearing up, he began yet another explanation of things long passed. "When Peter... my Peter... died... I lost all hope. The only thing that kept me alive was Elizabeth, and my window into your world. I always told Belly that we couldn't cross over, that it was far too dangerous. When I saw that you were dying too, and that I was the only one who could save you..."

"You kidnapped me, Walter," Peter interrupted, equally somber. "You took me from my family. From my world."

"I didn't plan to. That was not my intention." The old man stopped for a moment, as if trying to keep himself from crying. "I love you, Peter. And if I had to make the choice all over again, I'm not sure that I'd be strong enough to act differently, but, now I understand that it was wrong, that I should never have crossed the line, that it was terribly wrong."

Bottling his pain, Peter hardened himself and shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I can't talk about this yet, Walter," he said quietly, leaving Walter to sit alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Peter went back out to the main lab to meet his wife but only found Astrid sitting on the desk. "Is Olivia here yet?"<p>

"She's in the bathroom. Baby's giving her trouble again."

Peter just stared at her, shocked.

"She didn't tell me," she assured him. "I just knew."

"But she's not showing. Nobody can tell. Even I can't tell."

Astrid shrugged. "Women's intuition, I guess."

He chuckled and she walked over to give him a huge hug. "Congratulations Peter. You're going to be a wonderful father."

"Thank you, Astrid. I hope so."

Olivia emerged from the bathroom, looking shaken. "You OK?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said, forcing a small smile, but the look she gave him told Peter something else was going on, she just didn't want to talk about it here. "Are you done speaking to Walter?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice dampened.

She gave him a reassuring smile and they said their goodbyes to Astrid as they left the lab. In the corridor, Olivia reached for Peter's hand and squeezed. "Are you OK?" she asked him.

"Yeah. It went better than I thought, I guess. But I still don't think I can forgive him yet."

"I can understand that," she said, ironically feeling the same thing after her talk with Lincoln this morning.

"Are you OK? You seem a little worried."

She stopped walking in the corridor and tugged on Peter's hand to hold him back. He realised then that she had tears in her eyes. She looked afraid.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

She looked down. "Peter, we need to call Broyles to ask for the rest of the day off and go see a doctor."

"Olivia, what's wrong?"

She bit her lip. "Uh, when I went to the bathroom… It's just… I'm bleeding a little bit."

"Shit," Peter breathed, running a hand over his head.

"Peter, I'm sure it's nothing," she said, trying to minimize the situation even though her voice trembled slightly with fear. "This can happen in early pregnancy. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. We just need to see a doctor to be sure."

"Let's go." Peter charged into action, taking her car keys and walking them briskly to the car. He turned the siren on, weaving furiously through traffic. Their protective detail could barely keep up with them.

"Peter, slow down! This isn't an emergency. The books said this could happen."

"I'm not taking any chances, Olivia. Not after last time."

Olivia teared up a little and stared out the window, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort.

Peter sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I bet this one is fine. We're just making sure, OK? Don't be scared."

"You're the one who's shaking."

Peter was quiet for a moment, slowing down and driving a little more calmly. But she could see from the way that he was gripping the steering wheel that he was still far from calm. "We're gonna be fine," he said to her, but he was mostly assuring himself. It broke her heart to see him scared.

When they got there, they filled out some forms and waited for the doctor to see them. They'd seen a doctor a couple of times about the pregnancy, but this was their first real visit to an obstetrician, so it was a little nerve-wracking for both of them. Eventually they were called up to wait in an exam room and Olivia changed into a gown, sitting on the exam table as they waited in for the doctor to arrive.

Soon after, a middle aged woman came in. "Hello, I'm Dr Ross."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia, this is my husband Peter."

"It's good to meet you too. I understand you reported some light bleeding when you were first admitted?"

"Yes."

"Well, that can happen sometimes but because you've had a miscarriage recently we'll do a quick exam just to make sure, OK?"

"OK," Olivia breathed, and Peter squeezed her hand.

"Have you had you're first scan yet?" the doctor asked.

"No, we were planning on coming here for that next week," Peter explained.

"OK, well, we should also do that today just to confirm that everything is fine with your baby. Olivia, the first scan of your pregnancy is an internal ultrasound, which can be a bit awkward and uncomfortable. Would you prefer that Peter left the room for the procedure?"

She looked up at him. "Do you want to stay?"

"Only if you're comfortable with me being here."

She gave him a tiny smile. "I want you here. I think you deserve to be a part of everything that happens with the baby."

"Thank you," he said earnestly, kissing the back of her hand.

"Alright then, let's get started. Olivia, I'll talk you through what's being done at every stage of the exam, and if you want me to stop at any time all you have to do is ask."

Olivia just nodded, for a moment not trusting her own voice. These exams were always bad experiences for her. She had to have them after her miscarriage, and after what happened with Conrad and Harris. Those memories came back to her all at once and she shuddered. Peter squeezed her hand. "It's OK," he said softly, almost reading her mind. She nodded. She trusted Peter, and Dr Ross seemed like she knew what she was doing. Olivia had also ticked a box on her admission form saying she was a sexual assault survivor, so the doctor knew to be extra patient with her.

"Olivia, if you want to take some time to relax before we begin then that's perfectly fine," Dr Ross assured her.

"It's OK. We can start."

"OK then. Could you please lie back on the table and adjust your legs?"

Olivia did as she was told and Peter held her hand tight, pulling a chair to sit beside her, facing away from the doctor. Olivia bit her lip, her hands sweaty as she blushed out of embarrassment and discomfort.

"It's OK, Liv," Peter assured her. "She's just making sure our baby's OK."

"I'm going to start the initial exam now. Just try and relax, Olivia." Olivia closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm in any way she could. Dr Ross was excellent in looking after her, always explaining each step she was taking and making sure Olivia was alright.

"That's good," she finally announced. "Everything looks OK so far. You're bleeding doesn't seem to be emergent, but it's best to double check that the baby's doing well. I'm going to get started on the internal ultrasound now. This may be a little cold and uncomfortable but try and stay relaxed. If it becomes painful at any time let me know, OK?"

"OK."

Worry burdened Peter the whole way through, watching how his wife winced in discomfort. He tried his best to calm and support her, but he didn't really know how. Neither of them had ever been in this situation before. "Livia, you OK?"

"Yeah," she said, forcing a small smile.

Doctor Ross carefully checked through the images on the ultrasound screen, talking to distract them from the awkwardness they were feeling. "This will be the first baby for both of you, right?"

"Yes."

"That's exciting."

"Yeah," Peter chuckled. "It's confusing too though."

"Well if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I'll try and remain available to you over the entire course of your pregnancy so you can have some consistency there. Do you have family or friends to support you?"

"Yes, our friend and my sister both have daughters, so I'm sure we'll be asking them lots of questions," Olivia explained.

"Good, that always helps." The doctor focused the screen on a particular image. To Peter and Olivia, it was only static, but they knew that there was something there they needed to see. Doctor Ross pointed to the screen. "OK, mum and dad, see this little dark blotch right here? That's your baby."

It was tiny – barely recognisable. Just a little smudge of grey amid all the black and white static. Blink and you'd miss it. It was that small. But to Olivia and Peter, that tiny smudge was everything.

"Oh my God."

"Do you think we could get a copy of that picture?" Peter asked the doctor.

"No problem."

"How big is it?" Olivia asked curiously.

"Only about an inch long. But trust me; it'll be a full-grown baby before you know it." She zoomed in a little, focusing the image as much as she could, pointing again. "Now this flicker right here is the heartbeat."

Peter laughed out of pure joy. "Wow. You can see that already?"

"Yep, you're at 10 weeks so the baby has a beating heart. Most of its organs are functioning now. It would have started developing fingernails this week too."

"Seriously? That's so quick."

"Babies develop most finer details relatively quickly. The next two trimesters are all about strengthening itself so it can then survive outside the womb. I'll just get a heart rate..." She fiddled with some knobs on the screen and turned on the audio. Suddenly the fast, whooshing sound of a heartbeat echoed throughout the room. It sounded like horses galloping underwater.

Olivia beamed. "Oh my God," she whispered, joyous tears hanging in her eyes. "It's really there."

She felt Peter kiss the top of her head, and for the first time Olivia felt the concept of their baby go from something abstract to something real. They were really having a kid. She and Peter made a _person_. The very idea of it simply blew her mind.

"It seems to be hanging in there so far," the doctor happily announced. "You're definitely not miscarrying. This kind of bleeding happens in about 30% of pregnancies, it's very common. So there's no need to worry."

Olivia dropped her head back onto the bed she was lying on, letting the relief of that news sink in. She squeezed Peter's hand and knew that he was feeling the same thing. Dr Ross finished up with Olivia and she sat up on the bed. "I'm really glad that's over," she thought out loud.

"I know it takes a bit of getting used to, but exams like these are a reality of pregnancy, I'm afraid. But you'll both be glad to know that things look normal so far. Your bleeding doesn't seem to be serious, but don't use tampons or have sex until it stops and let us now if it gets any worse or causes you pain. Also, I'm worried that your blood pressure is a bit high. Is anything causing you particular stress? Work, maybe?"

"Definitely work," Peter said. "She's a cop, but her supervisor's taken her of most field work because of the pregnancy."

"OK, well that's good to hear but it's important you both keep your stress levels as low as possible. You've got a long road ahead of you and we need to do everything we can to keep your baby healthy. How's the morning sickness?"

"Pretty regular. About 7am every morning, and I can usually keep food down once it's over unless a particular smell makes me sick. It seems to be getting better recently, though."

"Good. That may take a while to ease up but if it gets considerably worse, make sure you give us a call. Is there anything either of you wanted to ask?"

"Actually, we were wondering if you could maybe settle an issue for us," Peter said. "Since we've already experienced a miscarriage, we've been a little hesitant to tell people about this pregnancy. It's been two and a half months and our friends and family still don't know. Do you think it's safe for us to tell people yet?"

"Honestly, the choice is entirely yours. I have a lot of patients come to me with this concern, it's not uncommon. But most miscarriages occur within the first trimester, so, barring extreme circumstances, you should be safe to tell people in a couple more weeks."

"OK. Thank you."

"No problem. Was there anything else?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, that's about it for today. We'll get you to come back for your next scan between at around 4 months. At that point we'll be able to determine the sex of the baby, so have a think about whether or not you'd like to find that out. Until then, take it easy and make sure you stay off the coffee and alcohol." She printed out something from the scanner and handed it to them. "Here's the first picture of your baby. I know it's kind of a disappointing shot seeing as it doesn't look much like a baby yet, but it'll grow."

"It's not disappointing at all," Peter said, beaming. "Thank you, doctor."

"Anytime."

She left them alone so Olivia could get dressed. She pulled Peter close and kissed him sweetly. "That felt amazing," she whispered, smiling against his lips. "Hearing the heartbeat and everything. I've never felt anything like that."

"Me neither. It sort of made everything real."

Olivia nodded and they kissed again, stopping in between every now and then for a smile or a laugh, holding each other close. Peter placed a hand on her belly, Olivia's hand covering it. "We can't wait to meet you, little one," he said. "It's still six and a half months away, but we already love you so much."

Olivia nodded and kissed his cheek, getting up to go and get dressed. As he was waiting, Peter turned his phone back on and found that he had heaps of missed calls from people at work. He checked Olivia's phone and so did she. He called Charlie.

He picked up on the first ring. "Peter, where the hell have you been?"

Peter couldn't think of a lie fast enough. "Uh…"

"You know what, never mind. You and Olivia need to get back to the Federal Building right now."

"Charlie, what's going on?"

"Jones just turned himself in. He wants to speak to Olivia."

**Oh no! **

**Please review!**


	12. Jones

**Chap 12 – Jones**

**References: Lines from Ability, glass door confrontation (What Lies Below), vodka (The Day We Died), Olivia being scared of the dark (Unleashed)**

"Where is he?" Olivia demanded to know as she charged into the Fringe Division office with Peter.

"Come with me," said Broyles, leading them to the gallery behind Interview Room Six so they could peer in at Jones through the one way glass. Lincoln and Charlie were already there waiting for them.

"He just turned himself in?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "Walked right into the foyer downstairs and demanded to speak to Olivia."

"Where were you guys anyway?" asked Lincoln, a slight edge in his voice. Olivia couldn't help but baulk internally at the question. She and Lincoln were back on speaking terms after their fight but she still felt like whenever he talked about her and Peter there was subtle resentment in it.

"Doesn't matter," Broyles said before either of them could make up a story. "We have bigger things to deal with. Dunham, Jones also brought this in for you," he said, hinting to an old wooden box sitting on a table in the room.

Olivia stepped over to look at it closer. "Any prints?"

"Nothing."

She put on some gloves just to be safe and opened it up to find a tray set up with rows and rows of tiny light bulbs. Her forehead crinkled a little in response to her confusion.

"Some instructions came with it, Livvy," Charlie explained. "Linguistics took them so they could examine the language and handwriting. Apparently it's an old test from the Cortexiphan trials. You turn the lights on at the switch then the subject has to turn all the lights off without touching the box."

"How?"

"Using all your magic powers I guess," Peter muttered.

"This is ridiculous," she surmised, snapping the box shut. "I'm not playing this game with him."

"If you're going to get anywhere with a man like Jones, you're going to have to give him something," Broyles said. "Play along just enough to make him think he's calling the shots. But don't ever lose control. That's the key."

"Yes, sir."

"Jones has enormous power here," Broyles continued. "He's turned himself in and we know he'll probably be able to escape whenever he wants. We may not have him here much longer. We need to get as much information as we can from him while we have the chance."

"This is bullshit," Lincoln muttered. "Jones doesn't get to dictate the terms of his captivity."

"He wouldn't be captive if it wasn't under his terms, Lincoln," Olivia retorted.

"Well, that may be the case but the United States doesn't negotiate with terrorists."

She scoffed. "That's exactly the kind of arrogance he's expecting."

"That's enough, both of you," Broyles interrupted. "Agent Lee, I know you're Dunham's superior but I am also yours, and I say she goes in there. This may be our only chance to determine what his plan is. Dunham, clear your head and go in whenever you're ready."

She nodded dutifully and shot a quick glare at Lincoln, unclipping her gun from her belt and handing it to Peter, seeing as she wasn't allowed to take weapons into an interrogation because of anti-torture laws. As he took it from her, his thumb lightly brushed the back of her hand in a silent encouragement. They gave each other a knowing, reassuring look as she headed off.

Olivia took a breath and ran a hand through her hair before entering the interrogation room, seeing Jones huddled over the edge of a table. He looked disastrously ill. His skin was pallid, sweat beading in his hair, his hands jittery and his breath shaky. But somehow, even in his weakness, he still managed to frighten her. She knew exactly what he was capable of. The man was nothing short of a monster.

"Olivia Dunham," he breathed, his voice raspy with pain. An eerie smile spread across his face. "What a pleasure this is. I've been waiting so long to see you."

"Here I am," she said steely, sitting down across from him. He coughed, spluttered, his trembling increasing. "You need medical attention."

"All of the assistance... in this world... could not cure me Ms Dunham. It seems that...when one is dematerialized on a molecular level and then reassembled - there are certain unadvertised side effects."

"So what is it that you need then? You must have turned yourself in for some reason."

Still struggling, he lifted his head, smiling at her. "Did you get my message?"

"About the Artist? Yes."

"There was no need to worry, Ms Dunham. If I wanted to hurt you I would have, long ago. The Artist was a gift, though something tells me you didn't appreciate it."

"I don't know how you expected me to appreciate a man being killed in cold blood."

"You wanted to catch him."

"Exactly. I didn't want him dead. Nobody deserves to die like that. What that man deserved was a fair trial."

Jones smirked. "You were always like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When you were a child," he said. "Always fair. Always obeying the rules. Such a good little girl. I remember you well."

"From the Cortexiphan trials in Jacksonville?"

"You remember?"

"No. But I know now that you weren't lying about them."

He smiled a little. "I assure you, Ms Dunham, I've never lied to you about anything."

"Do you remember any of the other children?"

"Plenty."

"I want there names."

"Not yet." He coughed again, the sound rough and booming before he settled. "You were a darling little girl, Olivia. But you weren't always happy were you? When all the other children were rushing out the door at the end of the day, you never wanted to leave."

"Mr Jones, I'm not sitting here so we can talk about me," she snapped. She knew he was just trying to get to her. "Tell me about the attack you're planning."

He ignored her question. "You know in all the years I was Dr Bell's intern on the Cortexiphan trials I never figured out why you never wanted to go home. What _was_ going on in that house of yours, _Olive_? We could tell your stepfather was hitting your mother - that much was obvious. But you, Olivia… You always tried so hard to be normal, no matter what was going on, didn't you? I heard you left the trials when you shot him. I wonder, what finally made you snap, Olivia, after all those years? What exactly did he do to you?" He smirked a little, leaning closer. "Did he come knocking on your door late at night?"

"For the last time, Mr Jones, we are not here to talk about me or my childhood. The attack you're planning has nothing to do with me."

"That's where you're wrong, my girl. What happens tonight has everything to do with you."

"_Tonight_?" she repeated, the word dropping hard in her stomach.

"Yes. We haven't much time. Did you receive the light box I brought for you?"

"Yes."

"You didn't bring it?"

"No. I didn't need to, coz this is -"

"Your reluctance is to be expected."

"I know what you're doing, Mr Jones. I know about the manuscript. The Manifesto. Z.F.T. I know that you believe that there's some kind of a war coming..."

His eyes seemed to light up. "You read it?"

"...and that you're recruiting warriors. That's the word you use, isn't it?"

"Yes. I need you to pass a test, and quickly. Even as we speak, my men are installing an explosive device capable of killing several hundred people in the manner of the newspaper salesman and the other victims you found after my escape."

"When is it set to go off?"

"Soon. Much too soon. You and your FBI friends shouldn't have wasted your time with me, Ms Dunham."

"OK, before anything, you are going to disable that -"

"NO, _you_are."

"This is ridiculous," she snapped at him. "You've got it in you're head that people's lives rely on me attempting, and failing, what is obviously an impossible task."

"The task is hardly impossible!" he scolded, groaning in obvious pain.

She leaned a little closer, furious now. "I will not let these people die because of some stupid game you're playing."

"This is no game!"

He keeled over again, clutching his stomach and biting his lip to stifle a scream. She rushed to his side of the table. "Mr Jones?"

His eyes fluttered closed as he tried to even his breathing. "Before they can be considered soldiers - they must be regarded as recruits," he recited to himself under his breath. "And the expectation must be that they shall be unwilling..."

"Mr Jones, I am willing. I am willing but I am not able. There must be another way to diffuse the bomb other than me passing this test. You need to cooperate with us, Mr Jones."

"No, Ms Dunham. It is you who needs to cooperate! There's only one way to disable that device. You know what that is."

She gritted her teeth, trying desperately to contain her anger. This was bullshit. He couldn't possibly be serious. "There has to be another way."

He shook his head, trembling. "The bomb is designed just like the light box. There is no red wire, no blue - only black. Cut any one of them, and the device blows. Try and remove it, and the device blows. And if those light are still on when the timer hits zero... the device blows. There is only one way out - and it's you."

"Mr Jones, I can't do this."

"I remain confident that you can. I have one thing that you do not, Olivia. I have faith in you."

Before long he was coughing, spluttering, fighting for air as he fell to the ground groaning in agony. "I need a medic in here!" she shouted, desperately trying to help him. "Mr Jones? Mr Jones, where is the device? You need to tell me now, there isn't time."

Somehow the old man managed to regain some of his composure. "923 Church Street, 47th floor. You better hurry."

And with that she was out of there, charging back into the Fringe Division office as Broyles was announcing the location to the raid teams. "Good job, Liv," Lincoln said to her as she met up with the others. Despite their differences lately she could tell that he meant it and nodded in gratitude. The drive to the building was chaotic, nobody speaking but everybody holding their breaths. As they got closer to the site, most of the other cars on the road were from the police or FEMA. At the base of the building, Lincoln, Charlie, Olivia and Peter got out of the car and saw that already people were being evacuated from the building and those surrounding it. Helicopters were circling above. Cops were barking orders on the street. Sirens squealed in the night and megaphones blasted directions to safety. It was a nightmare.

Broyles met them in front of the building. His face was deadpan, more serious than they'd ever seen it. "The bomb techs are struggling upstairs," he told them. "Jones was right. They can't move it or diffuse it, and they've never seen wiring like this before."

"Where do you need us?" asked Charlie.

"You and Bishop can stay on the street and assist in the evacuation effort. But Dunham and Lee, we need you up there right now."

Olivia's stomach dropped but she knew it had to be done. Nodding, she took a step towards the front door only to feel a rough hand grab her arm and pull her back. Startled, she looked back to find Peter clutching her, glaring at Broyles. "No. She's not going up there."

"Peter, I have to do this. There is no other way."

"No, you don't. You said yourself it's impossible. You're safer staying down here and helping us evacuate until it's time to go."

Broyles sighed, looking between them knowingly. They had told him weeks ago about the pregnancy - so far he was the only one who knew. "Bishop, I'm a married man myself. I have children. I know how hard it is to do this work when you love someone that much. You know that I normally would not allow this for obvious reasons," he said, subtly hinting at the pregnancy. "But Olivia is our only chance right now of stopping this bomb, and I promise we will do everything we can to keep her safe from any harm. The bomb techs say we have another half hour on the timer, so I'll make sure everybody is out of the building with 15 minutes to spare so everybody gets away safely before the bomb goes off. But you need to give your wife the chance to stop this while she can."

"Livia, don't do this," he begged her. "Please."

She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. She was just as scared as her husband. It wasn't just her life in danger, but their child's too. That being said, she knew thousands of other people would die if she didn't at least try to stop the bomb. "Peter, I have to."

"Peter, man, let her go," Charlie encouraged despite the worry in his voice. "She's gonna be fine."

"We don't have enough time to stand here discussing it," Broyles said, putting an end to their discussion. "Dunham, Lee, we need you upstairs now."

Lincoln was already on his way inside, turning back to wait for Olivia. She turned back to Peter with tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. The feel of him hugging her back was enough to make her tremble. "I'm sorry," she whispered before pulling away from him and starting off with Lincoln.

"Livia, don't!" he called after her, trying to follow her into the building but the guards at the door wouldn't let him past.

"Sir, you can't go in there."

"Please, that's my wife. I just have to get inside."

"Sir, we can't."

"I said that's my fucking wife! I just have to get inside!"

She bit back tears as she watched him struggle against them, another guard closing the glass door behind them. Somehow he broke through the men and pounded his fists against the glass. "Olivia, please, you've got to open this door."

"Peter, I can't, you know that."

"Dammit, Olivia, get out of there! This isn't just about you, you know that! If you die in there I will never forgive you, Olivia! Don't you dare do this!"

"I have to. I'm sorry."

"Olivia," he growled, pounding at the door. "OLIVIA!"

She shook her head tearfully and turned away, heading to the elevators. The sound of him screaming after her and struggling against the guards broke her heart.

"I'll keep her safe, Peter. I promise. I'll bring her back to you," she heard Lincoln say before he jogged after her, joining her in the elevator. She leaned against the back wall as they ascended and lifted a hand to cover her face as she fought tears. What the fuck was she doing?

"Liv," Lincoln murmured, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off violently. "Don't."

He sighed. "You're lucky you have him Liv. You deserve him. Nobody will ever love you as much as Peter Bishop. He's my friend, and so are you, and I promised him I'd bring you back. I don't break me promises, Liv. You should know that by now. So don't worry. It's going to be OK."

She nodded, suddenly remembering why she and Lincoln had become such good friends in the first place. When it counted, he stepped up and would do anything for his friends. In a crisis, he had a steady hand. When she doubted her ability to succeed, he always had her back. Always. For a moment, she wondered why the hell they were fighting. If they were going to die tonight, they couldn't let their friendship end on those terms.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For how I've treated you lately. I know what happened between us was awkward, but I want us to stop avoiding each other and being frustrated. I just want to be friends again."

He managed a small smile. "You never stopped being my friend, Liv. You know that." The elevator doors open. "Come on," he said, and they walked out onto the bare floor, helicopters zooming past the windows ahead of them.

The device was planted on one of the windows so it would blow out the side of the building and cause the whole structure to collapse. It looked exactly like the light box. Nausea ripped through her stomach as she wondered how the hell she was going to do this. She tried to swallow, running her hands through her hair and into a prayer-like position in front of her face. They had ten minutes before Broyles wanted them back downstairs.

"Do you want some space?" Lincoln asked softly. She nodded, and he ushered the few remaining bomb techs to a little office down the corridor.

Alone in the dark, she tried to believe that she really was capable like Jones and Walter had always said - that she was strong and extraordinary and special. But she couldn't. She stared at the lights again and again but, nothing. Then came the overwhelming sense of failure. The people who couldn't be evacuated would die because she couldn't stop the bomb. What if she didn't have enough time to get out? What if Peter was downstairs, still pounding on the door when the entire skyscraper collapsed above him? What if they did survive, but, with the stress of it all, their baby couldn't handle the trauma and died?

She'd come so far and she had still failed. The threat of tears stung her eyes.

Then one of the lights flickered.

She did a double-take. It was definitely flickering. Encouraged, she poured all of her focus onto that one light, desperately willing it to turn off as the fear of her failure became almost too much to bear. Astonishingly, she felt the rest of the world fall away around her. She couldn't hear anything or feel anything that was going on. All she saw were the lights.

The first light went out. Then a second, and a third - one by one, until the device was bathed in darkness. She exhaled, stepping away from the bomb and covering her face with her hands as she tried to absorb what had happened. Trying to even her breathing, she heard Lincoln's footsteps behind her. "You did it," he said, astounded. "What was that? How did you do that?"

She shook her head, near tears. "I don't know," she said softly. "I don't know."

"Liv, are you OK?"

She nodded. "Just get me out of here."

They went back downstairs to find most of the street empty. Even with fifteen minutes to spare, most non-essential staff had been asked to evacuate the area for their own safety. Charlie was still barking orders to the remaining officers on the street. "I need these streets cleared now! Anyone within a four block radius has to move! LET'S GO! Double Time!"

"Charlie," Lincoln called out to him. "She stopped the bomb."

Smiling in relief, he ran over and gave her a hug. "Good job, kiddo. You OK?"

She nodded mutely, finding that she had lost her voice.

"Peter hasn't left yet," he assured her, as if he knew what she was thinking. "He's in the ambulance over there. One of the guards at the door hit him and he got a cut above his eye. He's fine, he's just getting patched up."

Before he could say anything else, she was running towards the ambulance, finding Peter sitting in the back while a paramedic covered the cut on his forehead. "Peter," she managed to get out, her voice weaker than she wished it to be.

He looked up, just for a second, before looking away. It was obvious that he was angry with her.

"Are you OK?" she asked him.

He nodded, and the medic let him go. "You stopped it?" he finally said.

"Yes."

Exhaling, he rubbed his eyes. "I need to get out of here," he muttered.

"Me too," she said, and they walked over to their car and started the drive home.

But even by the time they got there, Peter hadn't said more than two words to Olivia. He was physically fuming. The first thing he did was head to the kitchen and whip out some vodka from the freezer, pouring himself a glass.

"Peter..." she started. It seemed that he ignored her, trying to focus on quelling his anger. "Peter, please talk to me. Just look at me, at least."

He stopped, taking a swig and finally turning his angry eyes to her. "Olivia, you almost died today."

"I know."

"Do you understand that? You almost died today."

"I know. I'm sorry, I -"

"Don't tell me that you know!" he snapped at her. "You were ready to let it happen! You were ready to let it happen to our kid! Don't you dare tell me that you know, because if you had any idea what you were doing you would have never have gone into that building."

She fought tears, trying not to let her pregnancy hormones get the best of her. "Peter, I had to. Thousands were going to die."

"And you would have been one of them. And our kid. Olivia, don't you understand your body is not your own? This kid is just as much mine as it is yours. You don't get to decide whether or not its life is worth risking just because it's in your body. We just heard its heartbeat this morning. It's fucking heartbeat, Olivia! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Peter, please..."

"No, listen to me! Don't you understand what you could have done? I know our jobs are dangerous, but you're married now. And in a few months you're going to be a mother. You have an obligation to stay here for your family. You don't get to be the hero anymore."

"Peter…"

"You have no idea how much you're needed, do you? With this supposed war coming, and the FBI, and our friends, your sister's family – your own family. We need you so much," he said emphatically, pain evident in his voice. "Olivia, don't you get that? I need you too much to see you fucking around with bombs. But you act like you don't even care. You'd rather go save the world with Lincoln than stay with me and look after your fucking kid."

"Peter, it's our job."

"No!" he snapped furiously, stepping closer so they were toe to toe. "Don't give me that! Our job is to protect people, not to die in the process. You are not supposed to die like that. _Our kid _is not supposed to die like that, so don't you dare give me any more bullshit about the fucking job." And with that he was gone, slamming his glass down on the table and tearing away to go to their bedroom.

For a moment she just stood there, shell-shocked in the wake of his tornado. With a trembling hand she covered her face, trying desperately to maintain her composure. She cautiously made her way to their bedroom, finding him under the covers already, his back turned to her. Sighing, she got changed and slid in behind him, seeing him tense. "Peter..." she murmured in the dark, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched at first, but then he seemed to relax into her touch. He was shaking. "Peter, please believe me when I say that I'm so, so sorry," she said softly, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Eventually he relented, softening and rolling over to face her. He cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "Don't ever do that again, Olivia," he begged her softly. "Please. I couldn't take it..."

She nodded, snuggling closer and savouring his touch. "I won't. I promise. I'm so sorry."

He pulled her close, clutching her to his chest as if he was holding on for dear life. "Don't ever leave me," he whispered into her hair.

"I won't. I'm sorry..."

They just held each other for what felt like hours, finally slipping into a restless sleep. Later in the night, Olivia was woken by her phone ringing. Groaning, she answered it, rubbing her eyes. "Dunham."

"Hey, it's Charlie."

"What's wrong?"

"Jones escaped from the hospital."

"What? How?"

"No idea. Forensics is working the scene. Broyles wants you and Peter to still take the night off, but I just thought you should now. And there's a detail coming to stay outside your apartment soon."

"Great," she muttered.

"There's something else. He left a message. I'm pretty sure it was meant for you, Livvy. It just says 'You Passed'."

Olivia swallowed, trying to keep herself together after the trauma of their day. "Thanks for letting me know, Charlie."

"No problem. Try and get some rest, kiddo. You're gonna be fine."

Exhaling, she hung up, settling back into bed. But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't fall asleep. On nights like these she was still afraid of the dark. Her breath shaky, she shifted in bed so she was close to her husband again, hugging him just a little tighter before she found the courage to close her eyes.

**Please review! This was kind of a dark chapter but things are looking up next chapter : )**


	13. Celebration

**Chap 13- Celebration**

**References: "It'd be a felony" (Bound), "beautiful" (6B), "You deserve to be happy. Both of you" (Os), "Look how happy…" (August)**

It was the 4th of July. Broyles had given them all the weekend off and they deserved it. The Pattern cases had been piling up like crazy, with Jones still on the loose. Peter and Olivia remained under a detail but it had relaxed somewhat. It had been over a month since Jones had escaped and they'd heard nothing from him. Most people hoped that he was just dead somewhere, but Walter had a theory that he was spending weeks healing up in a hyperbaric chamber. Either way, Peter and Olivia tried not to think about it too much. They had bigger things to worry about – like how to tell people about the baby.

When they'd safely hit the three month mark a couple of weeks ago, they felt like the baby was safe enough for them to spread the word. But finding the right time was difficult, especially at work. So when Rachael's family invited them and Charlie's family over for lunch on Independence Day, they decided that that was the day to do it.

That morning they walked hand in hand down the street to Rachael and Greg's house, quiet in their thoughts. "Are you nervous?" Peter finally asked Olivia.

"A little. I don't really know what to say."

"I think it'll just be awkward the first time we tell people, and then it'll get easier."

"Well Broyles and Astrid already know. It's just that this'll be the first time we really tell people."

"Well, it's been like 14 weeks now. We've kept them waiting long enough."

"I know. In a way I feel guilty for not telling them, but I'm glad we waited. If we'd told them straight away I would have been freaking out about losing it the whole time."

He stopped, giving her a sweet kiss and placing a loving hand on her stomach, feeling the slightest of bumps there. "I know you still freak out about it sometimes, but I don't want you to worry anymore. Work and the baby have been a crazy combination, but we have the weekend off so let's just enjoy it and celebrate this with our family."

"OK," she said with a grin, peppering his lips with tiny kisses before pulling away to get a full glimpse of the excited smile on his face. "Come on," she said, taking his hand and walking with him to the door.

Once they entered they were greeted by the people they could truly call family: Rachael, Greg, Charlie, Sonya, their niece Ella and their goddaughter Lucy. Astrid and Lincoln were visiting their own families for 4th of July, so they would have to tell Lincoln about the baby later that week. But for now, this was more than enough. It was great to see everyone again, since they had been so busy at work lately. Ella and Lucy were getting bigger every day. Especially Lucy - they couldn't believe she was having her first birthday in a few weeks. She looked so much like Charlie it wasn't funny - dark hair, big warm eyes, a cheeky smile. While Olivia was saying hi to Lucy, holding her little hands as she struggled to walk around in the living room, Peter caught her eye and gave her a reserved smile as if he knew what she was thinking. He subtly walked over to her and kissed her cheek, whispering so the others wouldn't hear. "It's OK. We'll bring our own next year." She smiled at the thought of that and kissed him softly before giving the giggling Lucy back to Charlie and going to help Rachael and Sonya in the kitchen.

"Liv, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," said Rachael.

"I know. I'm so sorry, it's just that work's been insane lately."

"Same with Charlie," said Sonya. "The cases have been driving him crazy."

"What are you working on that's got you all so busy?"

"Well, I wouldn't really know how to tell you," Olivia said. "And even if I did, it'd be a felony."

Rachael laughed. "You have a crazy job."

"I have a crazy job," she repeated, laughing along.

"Hey Liv, did you want some wine?" Sonya asked, since she was pouring herself a glass and Rachael already had one.

"Oh no, I'm alright, thanks."

Rachael smirked. "Since when do you turn down a drink?"

"I promised Peter I'd drive home, it's my turn," Olivia explained, grabbing some water instead. The lie came so effortlessly. Over the past couple of months it had become something of a habit to make excuses for her sickness or her sudden aversion to alcohol. All she wanted in that moment was to be able to tell her sister and her friend about the baby, but she knew it wouldn't be right. She wanted her and Peter to do it together. But even so, the words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Lying to people she loved felt so, so wrong.

Soon enough laughter and conversation distracted them until everything was ready. They went out to the backyard where a table was set up and the guys were barbequing, the girls playing in the grass while their fathers watched over them. For a moment Olivia wondered how the hell they all got there. It seemed like yesterday they were all college students, but now, in their late 20s, they were all grown up with families and children. She wondered where all that time had gone. It was amazing to her that at the tender age of 27, she was working for the FBI, married and pregnant. It wasn't the life she had imagined for herself when she was a little girl, but she was grateful to have it nonetheless. As Peter had always aptly put it, their life was something "beautiful".

Lunch came and went, with Peter and Olivia sharing demure smiles and knowing looks as they ate and talked with their friends, but they still hadn't told everyone the news. It was a wonderful meal, but they felt like the conversation was so ongoing that they couldn't find an opportunity to speak up. Every now and then one of them would really try to get a word in, but it just didn't feel right. When lunch was over, Sonya went to go get the red velvet cake she'd made for dessert, and while the others were still engrossed in conversation, he turned to his wife. "We are telling them, right?" he whispered in her ear.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm trying, I just keep freezing up."

"Me too. I didn't think I'd be this nervous. I think we just have to bite the bullet. OK?"

"OK."

She started laughing at how ridiculous they were, unable to just spit it out.

Appreciating the break of tension, he laughed with her, squeezing her hand and giving her a kiss as Sonya came back out with the cake.

Olivia grinned at Peter. "Ready?" she whispered to him, and he nodded, smiling brightly.

Once everyone was settled down, Peter took a breath, grasping Olivia's hand for support. "Uh, guys?"

"Yeah?"

He smiled at Olivia before continuing. "We, uh, we have some news."

"Oh?"

"We wanted you guys to be the first to know," Olivia said. "Peter and I are having a baby."

What happened next was kind of a whirlwind of hugs, handshakes, and 'Oh my God's as everyone congratulated them. They didn't really know how to react, it was all a bit crazy, but more than that they felt overwhelmingly grateful for these people who loved them so much.

"You hear that Ella?" Greg said excitedly to his three-year-old daughter. "Aunt Liv's having a baby soon."

Ella looked up at him curiously. "Really?"

"Yeah," said Rachael, the proudest smile on her face. "A little boy or girl you can play with all the time. They'll be your cousin."

"When?"

"Uhh, in about five and a half months, Ella," Olivia said.

"But that's so far away!" Ella complained.

"I know, honey," said Rachael. "But the baby needs time to grow in Aunt Liv's tummy before it's born."

Ella hopped down off her Dad's lap and walked over to Olivia, reaching out to touch her stomach. But Greg scolded her, "Ella, don't do that. It's rude."

"It's fine," Olivia laughed. "Let her. I don't mind."

Ella curiously felt around Olivia's stomach in awe, completely silent. Everyone could see that wheels turning in her head as she tried to comprehend how something like this was possible. "Is it really in there, Aunt Liv? I don't feel it."

"Well, baby girl, that's coz it's really little. But it'll grow."

"But how did it get in there? Did you eat it?"

Peter laughed. "No princess, she didn't eat it."

"Come on, Ella, I think that's enough questions for Aunt Liv," Rachael said, beckoning her daughter closer before she could ask anything more about where babies came from. She was way too young to have that conversation.

Ella lowered her head and began to walk back when Olivia stopped her and gently tugged her back. Looking a little closer, she noticed her niece's downcast eyes and was concerned. "Baby girl, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," the little girl mumbled, shifting on her feet and staring at her shoes.

"It's OK, princess," Peter said, lifting her onto his lap. "You can tell us. Why do you look sad?"

Ella played with her fingernails. "Are you and Aunt Liv still gonna love me?"

"Ella, that's not a nice thing to say," Greg told her. "Say sorry."

"Let her talk, Greg. She needs to understand all of this," Rachael said, calming him.

Olivia stroked her little niece's hair, kneeling down so she was on eye-level with her. "Of course we'll still love you, baby girl. Why would you think that we wouldn't?"

Ella shrugged, looking away. "You'll have a baby and you won't want to play with me anymore."

"Oh Ella, that's not true. We will always love you no matter what, baby girl. And we'll keep seeing you and playing with you. That's not going to change."

"Promise?"

"We promise," Peter assured her. "But you know what? When this baby is born it's going to need someone very special to play with it and be its friend and teach it things. We think you're the only one special enough to do that job."

"Really?" Ella asked, looking up at him.

"Of course! We wouldn't pick anyone else to be this baby's big cousin. In fact, we think you're gonna be the best big cousin in the whole wide world. This is going to be a lot of fun. So don't worry, OK?"

"OK," Ella replied, finally giving in with a soft smile and going back to her parents.

Glad that they'd gotten through that tough conversation, Olivia sighed looked back to her husband who met her with a gentle smile.

"So boy or girl?" Sonya asked, bringing the conversation back.

"Well, it's too early to tell, but we're going to find out in a month or so."

"You want to know early?"

"Yeah, I mean, we think it's just more practical to know ahead of time, to help us decide on names and things like that. I know it's probably a great surprise on the day but it'd be annoying having to refer to our baby as "it" for the next few months."

"That's fair enough. Just as long as it's healthy, that's the important thing."

They kept talking until the sky turned red and then they started getting ready to take the girls down to the park to watch the fireworks. The guys packed the table away and cleaned the barbeque as Sonya looked after the kids so Olivia and Rachael could wash the dishes. In the private of the kitchen, Rachael wrapped her sister in yet another huge hug. "Congratulations, Liv. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Rach."

"Sorry about Ella earlier."

"Rachael, it's fine. She's only three."

Rachael gave her a _we need to talk_ look and Olivia conceded, biting her lip putting down the dish she was cleaning to face her sister.

"You're due in five and a half months, Liv?"

"Yeah."

Rachael sighed. "I don't mean to pry, but…Liv, you were pregnant for almost four months and you never told me?"

"Rachael..." Olivia started, trying to find the right words. "I'm so sorry. We just…we wanted to wait to tell people in case something bad happened."

"Liv, nothing was going to happen."

"No, Rach. We lost one, about six months ago."

Olivia could see her sister's heart break for her and felt unprecedented guilt. She should have told her. But her sister was gracious and never mentioned that. "Oh Liv,

I'm so sorry that happened to you," she said softly, hugging her again. Olivia bit back tears as she pulled away.

"Rachael, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I know I should have, but... I was ashamed. I didn't want anyone to know and I thought it was my fault."

"Oh Livvy, that's not true."

"I know that now. But back then I just couldn't stop blaming myself. Looking back I wish I had told you, but I think at the time we just wanted to put it behind us. It was a really bad time for Peter and I."

"I can imagine. I understand why you didn't want to say anything."

"I'm sorry Rach. We were just worried that it'd happen again so we waited until we were safe to tell people about this baby. It was awful not telling you. There were so many times when I wanted to and I had to stop myself. I felt like I was lying to people who loved me and it was horrible. But I was just too scared."

"Livvy, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I completely understand, so don't worry about it."

"You're not mad?"

Rachael laughed. "Of course I'm not! My big sister's having a baby, this is amazing!"

Olivia smiled, so grateful for her supportive sister, and gave her a hug. "Thank you, Rach. I feel so much better now that you know."

"I wish Mum was here," Rachael said softly.

Olivia nodded, tears in her eyes. Just as painfully as she'd missed her father on her wedding day, she missed her mother right then. She'd been thinking of her a lot lately, trying to remember little details about how their mother had raised them - songs she used to sing, stories she'd read, the way she'd braid their hair before they went to bed so it wouldn't tangle - little things she hoped she could do with her own child. All she wanted was to be able to tell her mum how nervous she was about raising the baby, explain how scared she was that she'd do something wrong, and then have her mother calm her and give her all the advice she needed. But she had her sister, and maybe that was enough.

"Rach, do you mind if we meet up for lunch or something this week? I really need to talk to you about all this. I'm reading all the books in the world but I feel like I've got no idea what I'm doing."

"Of course, Liv. You can ask me anything."

"Thank you Rach, you're the best."

"Don't mention it. It feels good to give back after all the times you helped me. This is so exciting. You deserve to be happy - both of you."

They got back to washing the dishes and once everything was done the three families began to walk down to the park to watch the fireworks. On the way, Charlie jogged over to Peter and Olivia, giving her a nudge and a smile. "I'm so proud of you, guys. All grown up. Becoming parents and everything. How do you feel about it all?"

"Scared to death," Olivia laughed.

"Does that change?" Peter asked Charlie.

"Nope," he laughed back. "But it's a good fear, I guess. Lucy still scares the hell out of me, can't you tell?"

"Only when Lincoln teases you about teenage pregnancy," Olivia joked. "No, you're really good with her. She loves you to pieces."

"I love her more."

"I'm starting to feel that," she admitted. "It's kind of crazy. I've never felt anything like this for anyone. I don't mean loving it more, necessarily. It's just…different."

"Protective?"

"Yes - fiercely so."

"Wait till it's born. The first time I held Lucy, I cried like a baby."

"Seriously?" Peter laughed, even though he was touched by the image of it.

"No, it's true. But don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold." Charlie smiled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know it's just… Like I held her, and she looked at me, and I knew that if the slightest thing happened to her I would die. It's so intense, that love that you feel – like it's your whole purpose in life to protect and shape this tiny life. It's so overwhelming. I can't even explain it. But you'll see when you get there."

Peter just nodded, hoping that Charlie would be able to give him some useful advice on fatherhood. At the moment it scared him as much as it elated him. He was starting to feel what Charlie was talking about – that pressure to protect and love someone that was so much more vulnerable than him, all that responsibility for his own flesh and blood.

"You guys are gonna be good at this," said Charlie. "Don't worry. We're all here for you and I know it's a scary process, but try and have some fun with it too. It's a really exciting time in your life." He pulled Olivia into a tight hug. He'd always loved her like a sister, and she'd always seen him as the brother she never had. "I'm so proud of you, Livvy."

"Thank you, Charlie."

"You too, man," Charlie said as they embraced each other in a guy hug. "You're gonna be a great dad."

"I hope so."

Eventually they all reached the park and found a place to stand among the crowds of other families. Greg sat Ella up on his shoulders so she could see over everyone, and Charlie had placed little ear-warmers on Lucy's ears so the noise wouldn't make her cry. Standing behind his wife, Peter wrapped his arms around her and gently lay his palm against the tiny swell of her stomach, looking around at all the little children playing in the park and imagining how wonderful their own child's life would be. He also saw an old couple sitting on the grass holding hands, and he smiled to himself, hoping with all his heart that he and Olivia would be lucky enough to make it to such an age. He kissed her hair, and she twisted around to kiss him fully, letting him know she was thinking the same things he was.

They jerked apart when a loud bang erupted and a flash of light split the sky open. Olivia laughed, turning back around so she could gaze up at the sky. But Peter had no interest in looking at the fireworks. Instead, he was captivated by the faces of his niece and goddaughter. Ella was ecstatic, eyes wide as she pointed out all the colours to her parents. Lucy was bothered by the noise, he could see her flinch at every bang, but she didn't cry. She seemed so calm, just watching the sky light up in awe. Peter felt then more than ever that childhood was such a precious time in one's life - when everything was new and astonishing to you. Lifting his eyes to the sky, he felt like he was seeing these beautiful fireworks in a new light. Somehow the excitement of these children around him, and the knowledge of his child on the way, made him see something he'd seen a thousand times before as something amazing and magical. Like he was reborn, almost. He wondered if that's what parenthood was supposed to be - a call back to your own childhood.

It had never been this way for Peter before. He felt so much. He loved so much, and it was all for someone he hadn't met yet. It was surreal in a way, but that didn't make it any less true. He knew his wife felt the same. For once she was actually looking after herself at work, making sure she ate and got enough rest. Sometimes he'd catch her singing to the baby, even though it'd be a couple more months before it could hear her voice. He wondered what it was like for her, having the baby in her body for nine months. As a mother, she would always have a bond with the baby that he could never understand, but he knew, now more than ever, that it didn't matter. The bond he already felt with his child was enough to sustain him for the rest of his life.

Feeling his hand against her stomach, Olivia leaned back and rested against Peter's chest, closing her eyes to savour the feel of him as the fireworks bathed them in light.

She took his other hand in hers and brought it up so she could kiss his knuckles. "I love you."

She felt him kiss her neck and shoulder, smiling as he whispered in her ear, "I love you too."

But neither of them noticed the two men in the crowd that had visited them several times before. These men, strangely dressed in suits considering it was such a warm summer night, had no interest in the fireworks, but only in the couple before them. "Look how happy they are," one said to the other. "It's a shame things are about to get so hard for them again."

**Dun dun dun…..**

**Please review and while you're at it leave some suggestions for baby names!**


	14. Changes

**Chap 14: Changes**

**References: the drawing (The Day We Died), Walter hugging Olivia (The Day We Died), "the price for my deception" (Peter), "I lied to you" (Shape-shifters Dream), ice cream shop (Marionette), **

Olivia woke from her dreams with a start. Panting slightly, she looked at her surroundings and her eyes fell on Peter, who was still asleep half-naked next to her. Immediately flashes of her dreams came rushing back to her, making her blush. They had been…eventful, to say the least. Her pregnancy hormones seemed to love finding new ways to drive her insane, and apparently it was time for that second trimester jump in sex drive which made her cravings switch from Tim Tams and 7/11 slurpees to things far less innocent.

Groaning with embarrassment and tearing her eyes away from Peter's body, she left him sleeping to sneak off for a cold shower and make herself some breakfast. Olivia was munching on some toast when Peter finally made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Morning, Livia."

"Morning," she replied, stuffing more toast in her mouth to distract herself from her shirtless husband. She couldn't help it – her eyes wandered over his body, drinking in the sight of his back, his chest, his hands… He could work magic with those hands…

Olivia shook her head to clear it. All that guy had to do was raid the fridge for some milk and it was enough to send her mind reeling in the state she was in. She really was being ridiculous. Cursing her hormones, she blushed furiously for staring and forced the fantasies out of her head, her eyes never leaving her plate.

"What's this?" he asked her, gesturing to a child's drawing on the fridge.

She looked up, stealing a quick glance at his body before burying her face in her toast once again. "Ella gave it to us. That's you and me and the little baby we're gonna have."

"That's sweet."

Olivia nodded, still refusing to look at him.

"Livia, are you OK?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Wait a second…" he said teasingly, edging closer to her. Laughing, he tilted her face up, hearing the way her breath hitched when he touched her skin. "Are you _blushing_?"

"No!" she lied, blushing even more and failing miserably to hide her mortification. But seeing her face flushed, lips parted slightly and eyes wide with that familiar expression of want, he just grinned at her and that was enough to do her in. "Peter, stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like that!" she said, gesturing to his face. "You think that charm smile is going to work on me, Bishop, but it won't. Stop looking at me like that."

"How do you want me to look at you then?" he laughed. "You're cute when you blush." Tilting her chin up again, he gave her a quick 'good morning' kiss – or at least, he tried to. Olivia couldn't help it, but she found herself tangling her fingers into his hair, holding him close and deepening the kiss. Responding quickly, Peter wasn't complaining. He was confused, yes – but definitely not complaining. His hands resting on her hips, he let his fingers gently explore the skin just beneath her shirt. To say that she melted under his touch would be an understatement. That simple brush of skin alone made her knees weak as she whimpered against him. The sound of her voice made her realise how out of control her body was and she broke from the head rush.

"Stop," she whispered harshly, getting up and starting away. She stood there flustered for a moment before she could make her words form intelligible sentences. "We don't have time for this. We're going to be late for work. And I need another shower."

"I'm sure you do."

She glared at him. "Don't you dare follow me, Bishop. Now is not the time."

"OK," he said, laughing at the sight of her all flustered and blushing.

"Stop it!" she yelled at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying!" he laughed even louder.

Rolling her eyes, Olivia just huffed and went off to the bathroom, turning the water to the coldest temperature on offer and letting the spray cool her body. Eventually her intensified arousal wore away, which just left her with embarrassment. Sighing, she looked down at the slight swell of her 3-and-a-half-month belly and ran her hand across it. "What the hell are you doing to me?" she muttered to her baby. "I love you a lot but I want my body back soon." Then she realised she was talking to a foetus and felt like a total idiot. Banging her head lightly against the shower wall, all she wanted was for her body to go back to normal. But she knew it would be over 5 months before that happened.

Olivia turned the shower off and went back to their bedroom to get dressed, but she was even unsuccessful in that. It wasn't long before Peter found her crying on the edge of their bed, half dressed.

"Livia? What's wrong?"

Her shoulders shook a little at the sound of his voice and she whimpered a quiet "Go away."

"Livia, I'm sorry if I did something to upset you before. I'm sorry I laughed, OK? I read that hormones can go a bit nuts in terms of sex drive in the second trimester, it's totally normal."

"It's not that."

"What is it then, sweetheart?" he asked her gently, sitting cautiously on the bed beside her.

"My work pants won't close. I'm too fat."

He had to stifle a laugh. "Honey, you're not fat, you're pregnant. There's a difference."

"Easy for you to say!" she snapped at him, still teary. "You're not the one who has to go through all this – you don't get to tell me it's not a big deal."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he said. "But we knew this was going to happen eventually. Besides, your pants might be getting tight but it's still not really obvious that you're showing when you're fully dressed. It's probably your hips expanding more than anything. Nobody can really tell you're pregnant yet."

She cried some more, shaking in his arms. "I hate this," she cried. "My hormones are all over the place, and I'm getting fat, and my boobs are huge, and I'm insanely turned on one minute then bawling my eyes out the next, and I don't even feel like myself anymore. This isn't my body. This isn't me."

"Listen, I know who you are, OK? And I know things are different right now coz you're a lot more emotional and…stuff, than normal, but that's OK. And as for your body, you have nothing to worry about. Yeah, it's an adjustment, but it's happening coz we're having a baby. You and the baby are changing together and it's beautiful. We should be celebrating this."

"Please," she scoffed. "Enough with the 'sacred vessel' bullshit. I'm just gonna keep getting fatter. I'm gonna be huge and I won't be able to do my job. I won't be able to do anything! I hate you for doing this to me! I'm never letting you touch me again!" she cried, slapping his hands away from her.

Again, he had to keep himself from laughing as she finally settled, allowing him to hold her close. "Honey, you're beautiful. You always have been, but even more so now because you're carrying our baby. But I don't love you because you're pregnant – you're pregnant because I love you. And you know I'll always love you just the same, even when you're a whale, OK?" he teased, kissing her hair.

That finally got a smile out of her. She chuckled a little through her tears. "I feel stupid."

"That must be unusual for you," he said. "Look, we can go shopping tomorrow after work and get some new clothes, OK? Would that make you feel better?"

"Uh-huh," she replied, wiping her face.

"Good. Well, in the meantime I'm sure we can find something you can wear today." He got up and helped her raid their closet for something comfortable. A lot of her pants fit her but were getting tight so she regrettably settled on a professional black skirt she hadn't worn since a terrorism conference a few months back – or maybe it was a year ago. Once she put it on, she couldn't stop fidgeting with it. Peter just smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "You look good, babe."

She rolled her eyes and they went off to work to tell Walter and Lincoln about the baby. They decided to tell Lincoln first. Olivia was nervous about it. She knew that even though she and Lincoln were back on friendly terms, he still probably had feelings for her to some degree. She thought Peter had suspected this, but she'd never asked him about it. She was worried that Lincoln would be jealous and resent them because of the baby, but she knew he was above that – at least, that's what she hoped.

"Hey guys," said Lincoln. "You said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah, we did," Olivia said nervously, squeezing Peter's hand. "We've kind of just started telling people, so we wanted to let you know that I'm pregnant."

This was the part where Lincoln was supposed to get all jealous and passive aggressive, but he didn't. Instead he laughed warmly, pulling her into a genuine brotherly hug. "Congratulations, Liv," he said to her, shaking Peter's hand and congratulating him as well.

"You don't sound too surprised," Peter noticed.

"In all honesty, Charlie and I have been suspecting for weeks. He's probably just too nice to tell you."

Suddenly Olivia became self-conscious again, wondering how obvious it was that she was pregnant. "How did you know?"

He laughed a little. "We're detectives, Liv. Give us some credit. You weren't coming out for drinks anymore or getting coffee with us in the mornings. You were sick all the time. You didn't stay late at work or come with us on field duty. We know you too well to let that slide, Liv. But we knew you hadn't told us for a reason and we wanted to respect that, so we didn't ask about it."

She smiled slightly, both glad and a little embarrassed that her friends paid so much attention. "Thank you, Lincoln."

"I'm happy for you guys. I really mean it," he replied, and she knew from the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. He wasn't jealous. He was just glad for his friends. "And might I just suggest that Lincoln is an excellent name for boys if you wanted to name it after anybody..."

"We'll take that into consideration," Peter laughed. They talked a little more about it until Peter and Olivia had to go down to the lab to speak to Walter.

Things had been improving little by little between Walter and them, but they still weren't ready to forgive him or even be around him every day. He was the last person they needed to tell and Peter was particularly reluctant to do so, but he knew that Walter had a big enough part in their lives that he deserved to know, especially when it would soon become obvious anyway. Stopping outside the lab door, Olivia tugged on Peter's hand. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked him softly.

He nodded curtly.

"Peter, I know you're still mad at him. So am I. But he's the closest thing to a grandparent our baby will ever have. I know it's still too early for us to really forgive him, but we have to try and make this work."

Peter softened, nodding again, and squeezing Olivia's hand for support as they went inside. The lab tables were covered in food and science equipment. "Hey, guys," said Astrid. "What brings you down here?"

"Is Walter here?"

Hearing his name, Walter entered the room with a huge tray of muffins in his hands. "Peter! Olivia! How lovely of you to come and visit. Would you like a muffin?"

"There's nothing illegal in them, I promise," Astrid assured them.

"Yes, please," Olivia said quickly, surprising herself – she didn't usually dare to eat Walter's snacks. Walter gleefully handed her a muffin and as he talked on about all the progress he and Astrid were making on the pattern cases, she basically scoffed the whole thing. "Walter, these are amazing."

"Would you like another, dear?"

"Yeah, thanks," Olivia said, grabbing another muffin.

"Livia, we just had breakfast an hour ago."

"I know, but I'm starving."

Walter chuckled. "Well Afro and I are excellent cooks, but this change in appetite is rather unusual. If I didn't know any better I'd say that you were pregnant."

Astrid, Peter and Olivia all traded glances. "Actually that's what we came here to talk to you about, Walter. Olivia is pregnant."

Olivia couldn't help but melt at the sight of Walter's beautiful, joyous smile. "Olivia, that true?"

"Yes, Walter."

Laughing gleefully like a little boy, he ran over to her and enveloped her in an enormous bear hug, spinning her around. "How wonderful! How far along are you?"

"Almost 15 weeks."

"Marvellous!" Walter went over and wrapped Peter in the same tight hug. "Oh Peter, I'm so proud of you. You'll be a terrific father. Congratulations, son."

Peter fought to hide his cringe at being called Walter's son, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Walter."

"Are you going to find out the sex of the baby?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes, in a month or so we're going for the next scan and we'll find out. I'm staying open-minded, but Peter already thinks it's a girl."

Peter laughed. "Don't take that too seriously, it's just a guess."

"Well, I think it's a boy," said Astrid.

"I don't know, Charlie thinks it's a girl too," Peter replied. "Ella wants it to be a girl as well – she seems to think we get to choose. But Sonya and Rachael think it's a boy."

"Everyone's got a theory," Olivia mused. "There has to be a way we can make money out of this."

"I'm sure Lincoln and Charlie are already betting against each other," Peter joked.

"Well, regardless, son, I'm sure you'll both be very happy with the child. As am I. I can't wait to be a grandfather."

Finally, that was enough to make Peter almost snap. Bottling his anger, he tried to stay calm as he told the old man, "Walter, you're not its grandfather. We understand that you'll have a role in its life, and we're glad that you're happy for us, but please don't pretend to be something you're not. I can't handle that yet."

"Peter..."

"No, don't. When Olivia first told me she was pregnant, the very first person I wanted to tell was you. I was so excited about telling you and seeing you all happy like this. But then she got worried and saw my glimmer, and what was supposed to be a happy day for us ended up with me finding out you weren't even my father in the first place."

"Peter, just..."

"We were supposed to be happy, but something you did to my wife when she was just a little girl took that away from us. Maybe I'll be able to forgive you for that in the future, Walter, but I certainly can't today." He rubbed his eyes. "I can't handle this right now. Livia, I'll be outside."

Peter left and Olivia wasn't really sure what to do. Walter looked utterly crestfallen. "I'm sorry about him, Walter," Olivia said to him. "He's just finding it really hard to get over what happened between us."

"I don't blame him. I always knew that one day I would pay the price for my deception. I just hope he can forgive me."

"I'm sure he will, Walter. Just not today." And with that she went back outside to meet Peter.

She found him leaning against a wall with his head in his hands. To put it simply, Peter was torn. As much as he wanted to repair things with Walter he was still angry. But he also felt guilty that he could be possibly denying his child the only grandparent they'd ever have. The baby deserved to have a full family, even if that mean Walter was included. He just didn't know what to do.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Sorry, Olivia."

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice gravelly. "I just..."

"I get it," she said, kissing his knuckles. "Come on, let's get back to work."

* * *

><p>Olivia was losing her mind - that much was certain. She'd been at work all day but she couldn't go five minutes without her mind drifting back to Peter. Finally the clock hit six and she was ready to finish go home, since she wasn't supposed to work late anymore because of her pregnancy. Peter had said he'd be working late with Charlie, but she knew in the state she was in she wouldn't be able to survive the night alone.<p>

Pulling out her phone, she sent him a text: _Just finished briefing Broyles. Can you meet me at the car so we can go home? We need to talk._

He sent her a quick reply saying he'd be there soon. Feeling butterflies in her stomach, she fought the hormone-crazed thoughts that had made her brain their playground and tried to stay the rational, calm and collected federal agent she always was – but she knew that wouldn't last long, especially know that she had Peter all to herself for the night.

A few minutes later, Peter was walking through the darkened streets until he found his wife leaning against their car. "Hey," he said.

Biting her lip, she gave him a demure smile. "I lied to you."

"About what?"

Her smile grew bolder, becoming a flirtatious grin as she inched forward to stand toe to toe with him, running her hands over his chest. She shook her head a little. "I don't want to talk."

Grinning, he let her pull him close so he was pressing her against the car, nuzzling her nose with his before she kissed him hungrily. Pulling away to kiss down her neck, he laughed against her skin. "Missed me, sweetheart?"

Her breath hitched and she shivered. "Yeah," she breathed. "It's these damn hormones, they're driving me crazy. The whole day all I could think about was sex. It's getting ridiculous."

"Now you know what it feels like to be a teenage boy," he joked, letting his fingers part her shirt just enough to let him kiss her collarbone.

She groaned softly. "How did you stand it?"

"The usual way," he replied, smirking. "But I didn't have a beautiful woman like you in my life back then."

Laughter bubbled up through her throat, making her vibrate against his body. "You're cheesy," she teased. Winding her fingers through his hair, she pulled him back up to her face to kiss him fully, their tongues moving slowly and wetly together in a deep, lazy kiss. "Let's go home," breathed against his lips.

Pulling back, he looked her over, seeing the blush that dusted her pale skin, the way her lips hung slightly open in want, and how her eyes seemed wider than they've ever been. "Jeez, you're not kidding," he chuckled. "Those hormones really must be driving you crazy."

"You've got no idea," she groaned softly. She tugged on his shirt, getting antsy. "Come on, let's go already."

"Someone's bossy," he teased. "Patience, sweetheart."

"If I could be patient I wouldn't have texted you to get off work early. Come on."

Conceding, Peter laughed and hopped into the driver's seat smiling to himself – he was going to have fun with this. Olivia's hormones had been causing all kinds of trouble lately, but he was glad that they were finally making up for their cruelty. Meanwhile, Olivia was in torture next to him. Now that they were heading home it felt like sex was so close and yet so far. Her body and her mind were already spinning way out of control, she could feel it. She couldn't stop fidgeting, struggling to control herself. _What the hell is wrong with me?_, she thought.

The feel of Peter's warm hand on her thigh made her jump. "You alright there, sweetheart?"

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned softly, the simple touch enough to do her head in.

He grinned and decided to have some fun by teasing her, letting his fingers walk with tiny steps up her thigh and beneath her skirt. By the time he reached her inner thigh, she nearly lost it. "That's enough," she breathed. "Just pull over somewhere quiet."

He laughed, though his eyes darkened at the same time. "You serious? We'll be home in twenty minutes."

"I can't wait twenty minutes. Pull over."

He wasn't going to say no. Somehow he found a quiet, dark alley to pull into and parked the car, immediately turning back to her, letting her crush her lips onto his. They quickly discovered that this wasn't a comfortable position for making out and Peter glanced towards the back. Olivia read his mind, nodding quickly.

He laughed to himself as he fumbled his way to the back seat, flashing back to the awkward excitement of his back-seat experiences in high school. This felt so juvenile but in the end, it was Olivia – it didn't matter where they were as long as he was with her. Turning back and taking her hand, he helped her through. "Come here," he murmured, pulling her close. As she was manoeuvring onto her knees, he understood what she wanted and ran his hands up her thighs to push her skirt up around her hips so she could straddle him. Sitting down in his lap, she instantly dipped her head down to capture his lips. He tasted like coffee and dynamite, and she threaded her fingers through his hair to savour the taste of him and his hands skittered up and down her back.

He smirked against her lips. "Better, sweetheart?"

"Much better," she replied in between kisses. Her palms slid over his chest, reaching to undo each of the buttons of his shirt one by one, kissing and running her fingers over the new skin being revealed to her. Slowly peeling his shirt off his shoulders, she traced the muscles on his chest and back as he caressed her bare thighs and placed hot kisses down her neck.

It was amazing how much she had changed already this early into the pregnancy. All that muscle from years of military and law enforcement training was still there, all the scars still harsh against her pale skin, but something had changed in her. Her body was softer – _she_ was softer, like her heart wasn't as callused as it had always been. He held her close, letting his body love her as he marvelled at how delicate she was in his hands. He'd always loved this part of when they were together – when she let her guard down for him and only him, allowing herself to be happy, feminine, vulnerable, and more than anything else, allowed herself to be loved. It wasn't something she was good at, after all her years of suffering, but she did it for him. There was a very real tenderness underneath that tough exterior of scar tissue that she hid behind, and often he was the only one to see it. But she let him, simply because no one would ever love her as much as Peter Bishop – not even her father, who had always treated her like a princess until the day he died. After almost a year of marriage, this was still a revelation to her sometimes. Peter wasn't just a guy who she would eventually leave or would leave her. He was the man who would one day kiss her children goodnight. That thought made her heart swell with a love as intense as pain. Slowing down for a moment, she pulled back to cup his face in both hands, kissing him softly to show him that she loved him – they'd never needed words anyway, not really.

Peter gently pulled out her hair tie, letting her soft, golden hair fall around her shoulders as he got to work on the buttons of her shirt, leaning in to gently kiss along the edges of her bra as he went. He was hesitant here. While he'd definitely noticed the growth of his wife's breasts in recent times, he also knew that they'd been tender lately so they hurt whenever he touched them. It was torture – all he wanted was to appreciate the extra curves her body had recently acquired and yet he wasn't allowed to. But of course he'd sacrifice that simple pleasure for her. The last thing he wanted was to cause her pain.

Noticing his hesitance, Olivia cut to the chase and reached back to unclasp her bra, tossing it to the floor of the car. She devoured him with a kiss, holding him so that her body was flush against his, their bare chests pressed together. Struck by her enthusiasm, Peter splayed his hand on her bare back to keep her close, while the other cupped her cheek as he kissed her. His hand moved from her cheek to let his fingers trace her collarbone and downward, between her breasts. Again feeling his hesitance, she giggled in between kisses. "You can touch them if you want," she murmured, cupping his cheek and peppering little kisses along his jaw line. "They don't really hurt so much today."

"You sure?"

She nodded, causing him to whisper a thank you to a God he didn't believe in, taking them reverently in his hands as they kissed. He realised that he'd forgotten how amazing it felt to touch her this way. Once he was sure she wasn't hurting he decided to take things further, adding his lips and tongue to the equation, making her whimper and tremble in his grasp. She gasped and arched up, allowing him more access to her, which he was more than happy to take advantage of. "You're so beautiful, Livia," he murmured, sucking her into his mouth. She moaned at the sensation, winding her fingers through his already messy hair. Her heart was hammering in her chest now, and she was certain he could feel it. Olivia squirmed in his lap, already feeling pleasure build and stir deep in the pit of her stomach. Her whimpers only spurred him on, his touch causing her whole body to shake until it couldn't stand the pressure. She shuddered and gasped out a moan that sounded remotely like Peter's name, clutching his body tight until her nails dug into his skin. Panting softly, she relaxed again, collapsing and resting her forehead against his shoulder so he could feel her body quivering.

He pulled back, looking stunned. "Livia, did you just…"

She nodded, still catching her breath.

He grinned like he thought he'd done something special, even though he knew her hormones were making her hyper-sensitive. Rather than crush his pride, she let him take the credit and soon enough they're tongues were dancing hotly together again, battling for dominance, both of them addicted to the other's taste. She felt him rock hard against her and she trembled in anticipation, grinding her hips against his. Peter was so caught by surprise that he accidently bit her lip, making her whimper in pain, but not quenching the need firing inside her.

Playfully she reached for Peter's belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants with nimble fingers, stroking and teasing him until he begged. Fumbling in the back seat like teenagers, they somehow managed to get the rest of their clothing off. Straddling him again, Olivia couldn't help but let her eyes run over his body, feeling herself heat up when she saw that he was watching her watching him, his blue-grey eyes wide with lust. She drank in the sight of the smile that never failed to lift her spirits, the neck she loved to wrap her arms around, the masculine strength of his chest, the safety of his arms, the sturdiness of his broad shoulders and those hands that he could always work wonders with at times like these. But that was always the problem with Peter Bishop – you never knew which part of him to look at.

Feeling her heart swell, Olivia kissed her husband softly before reaching between them and settling down on him. Both of them gasped at the sudden sensation. He watched in the low light how her mouth fell open slightly and her eyes fluttered shut, convinced that in that moment of vulnerability and pleasure, she was perfect. He gripped her hips to keep her still, giving them both time to adjust until he was ready to let her go. As she began to move at a steady pace, Peter dropped his head forward and released a ragged breath, adjusting his angle slightly so he could be as deep as possible, lifting his hips to meet hers. His fingers were clutching fistfuls of her hair, dragging down her back, clinging to her desperately. She could hear nothing but his shaky breaths, feel nothing but all this male strength holding her, and see nothing but his eyes adoring her.

"Livia…" he murmured as her pace picked up, her hips swivelling down on his, drawing moans from them both. He was close, she could tell by the way he clutched her body, the hunger with which he kissed her and the urgency that seemed to take over his movements. He knew she was as well. Her whole body was shaking by this point. Grinning mischievously, he pulled her in for a deep, languorous kiss, sliding his hand between them. She felt his thumb apply delicate pressure just where it needed to be, and she had to bite down hard on her lip to soften her moans. Moments later she came for a second time, shuddering and convulsing in Peter's grasp, kissing his neck to muffle the cry of his name. Swept up with her, Peter let her name brush her skin in a deep groan as he followed close behind, clutching her to him and holding her close.

As they caught their breaths, Olivia peppered gentle kisses along his neck, taking a deep sigh before pulling back to rest her forehead against his. She melted into his grasp as he held her close, his hands tracing patterns on her back.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, bringing a thumb up to brush across her cheek.

"I love you too," she replied breathlessly. Then she started laughing, pressing her face into his shoulder. "Oh my God…"

"What?" he asked, smirking. "You laughing at me, now?"

"No, never," she giggled.

"What then?"

She shook her head, smiling. "When was the last time we did this?"

"That would be Sunday night," he murmured in between kisses. "After the fireworks."

"I meant in a car."

He laughed. "I don't even remember. Jeez, we've gotten boring haven't we?"

"We didn't get boring, we just got married."

He chuckled. "Well either way, things are about to get very crazy very soon," he said, smiling and caressing the slight swell of her belly. Olivia looked into his eyes and was captivated by the boundless love and hope in them.

"I can't wait," she said, kissing him softly. She started laughing again.

"What is it now, missy?"

"Nothing," she laughed. "I'm just getting weird cravings again."

"What for?"

"An oreo thickshake. Extra oreo."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Jeez woman! You may be a sacred vessel but you eat like Walter when he's got the munchies."

Olivia slapped him and got up to get dressed. "Come on, I'm hungry!" Groaning, he followed and once they were decent they drove back out of the alley and down to this ice cream shop near their apartment. Standing in line, they laughed and joked with each other, not noticing the bald man in the fedora watching them from across the road.

The man pulled out something resembling a phone and made a call. "I have arrived," he said as he watched Olivia and Peter. The observer stared at them intently, seeing Peter pull Olivia close for a kiss, a protective hand finding the tiny swell of her belly.

"Yes," he spoke into the phone. "I am looking at him as we speak. He is still…alive."

**I'm so sorry this chap is insanely long! Over 5000 words I wrote for you, maybe you can write a couple for me? Please review!**


	15. Crash

**Chap 15: Crash **

**References: waking up at 6:30 (6:02 AM EST), "this is all wrong" (Olivia), "That's got to count for something" (Over There: Part 2)**

**Other references: the baby's song is the slow piano part at the end of Married Life by Michael Giacchino (the soundtrack to the movie Up) **

"Peter! Peter, wake up!"

Peter heard Olivia's hushed voice and felt her hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. His first thought was that something was wrong with her or the baby. "What's wrong? Are you OK?"

Her eyes were wide, and she was breathless. "Yeah, it's just…"

"What, Olivia?"

"I think the baby's moving."

"What? Where?" He felt around the growing swell of her five month stomach, finding nothing out of the ordinary. His smile fell away. "I…I can't feel anything."

"I can't feel it from the outside either, but it's definitely moving," Olivia insisted.

Crestfallen, he sighed. "What's it like?" he asked her softly.

The smile she gave him in response was shy and awkward as she tried to find the words to explain it. "It's really strange," she finally said. "It's a fluttering kind of feeling – like when you get butterflies in your stomach. It's subtle, but it's definitely there."

"I think I read about this. It's called quickening, when the mother starts to feel the baby move around for the first time. You're about 20 weeks along, so I guess that's about right."

"You look upset," Olivia murmured, cupping his face.

"I'm not," he assured her, running a hand over her belly. "I just wish I could feel it."

"You will, once it gets a bit bigger."

He smiled, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"About 6:30."

He groaned. "We should try and get back to sleep. Big day."

"Yeah," she breathed. "I can't believe we get to find out if it's a boy or a girl today."

Smiling, he rubbed her belly and gave it a little kiss. "Hear that, little one? Soon we won't have to call you 'it' anymore. Won't that be nice?"

"And we can make a decent effort with finding your name, and decorating your room for you," Olivia added, her hand covering Peter's as it rested over her stomach. She cupped his face and brought him back up to her for a kiss. Laying with him so his chest was against her back, their fingers intertwined as their left hands covered her stomach and their wedding rings glinting in the early morning light. Olivia smiled to herself before she went back to sleep, feeling her husband wrapped around her and her baby stirring inside her. This is how life was supposed to be, she thought – all three of them together, perfect.

* * *

><p>Later that morning she woke to find Peter already up, playing something in the guest room (soon to become the baby's room) where they kept the piano. Leaning against the door and watching him, she smiled. "Hey."<p>

"Hey." He stopped playing and scribbled something down on the music sheets above the keys.

"What are you writing?"

"Just something for the baby. It's not done yet."

Her heart soared. She was so grateful Peter was supporting her so well throughout the pregnancy, but in moments like this she realised that he honestly adored the baby just as much as she did, maybe more. He'd always wanted kids, even when she was hesitant about it all. When they first found out they were pregnant (specifically Olivia), she was terrified and wasn't even sure she wanted a baby, but over the past five months she'd grown to love it and see it as a part of herself – a part of both of them, really.

"Can I hear it yet?"

He smiled. "Not yet. When it's done."

"Come on…" she said, standing behind him and wrapping her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Just a little bit."

He sighed. How could he say no? "Fine. But 24 bars, that's all you're getting."

"I can live with that."

Raising his fingers to the keys, he began to play a soft, sweet and slow melody on the higher octaves, something she could imagine playing from a music box or from a mobile above their child's bed. "Peter, it's perfect," she whispered.

He turned back to face her. "Livia, are you crying?"

Laughing, she wiped her eyes. "You can relax, it's just the hormones. Does that song have a name yet?"

"It'll have the baby's name. Just like your song has your name."

"Thank you for doing this. It's wonderful," she said, kissing him.

* * *

><p>They went to Dr Ross' office for their appointment and went through the same process as they did for the scan a couple of months ago, although Olivia didn't have to get changed this time. Dr Ross came and talked to them about how the pregnancy was going before they were ready to do the ultrasound.<p>

"Just before we get into this you should know that your blood tests from a couple of weeks ago came back," the doctor told them. "Your baby doesn't have any chromosomal issues like Down Syndrome or Spina Bifida so you're safe there."

"That's great," they said, even though they hadn't seriously considered the possibility that their baby could be sick.

"This is one of the most important scans we do because the baby's big enough now for us to see any anomalies in its development. It's still too early to survive outside the womb but many of its organs are already functional and it's starting to look like a real person at this point in the pregnancy. Also, would you like to know the sex of the baby today?"

"Yes please."

"Great. Let's get started then. Olivia, could you please lift your shirt up and unbutton your pants for the ultrasound?"

Olivia obeyed and grasped Peter's hand as Dr Ross lay cloths over her body above and below her stomach. "This may be a little cold," she said, squirting on some gel. Olivia winced a little. The doctor placed the wand on Olivia's stomach and smoothed it around, the images appearing up on the screen.

"Wow. It's gotten big," Olivia breathed, seeing their baby rolling around in there. It was moving so much more than last time.

"Well you're at 20 weeks so you're officially halfway. The baby's about as big as a banana by now. Also it's been able to hear your voices for about a week or so."

Olivia smiled up at Peter. "It heard you play this morning," she said softly. Brushing some hair off her forehead, Peter placed a gentle kiss there, loving the thought of that.

"So the morning sickness is easing up?" Dr Ross asked Olivia as she studied the images a little closer.

"Yeah, but my back's been killing me. And I felt the baby move this morning."

"That's great. Don't worry, Peter, you'll be able to feel him kicking from the outside in a month or so."

"_Him_?"

Dr Ross smiled. "Yep. Looks like you're having a son."

"A little boy?" he breathed, completely overjoyed. Laughing out of pure happiness, he gave Olivia a kiss.

"That's amazing," Olivia said, beaming at him with tears in her eyes. "Now I've got another Bishop man to charm me."

"We are a charming people," he joked.

"Peter, I know you were kind of hoping for a girl but I'm sure we'll have a Laura or a Julie or whatever someday."

"Really? You think we could handle doing this again?"

She nodded, biting her lip. She couldn't even believe that she'd said that, but it was true. They had a son, and she could easily imagine them having a daughter down the road.

Peter kissed her and Dr Ross handed them a picture she printed from the ultrasound. "Thank you so much," Peter said, suddenly realising he was fighting tears. "Look, Livia, it's our son."

The doctor turned on the audio so they could hear the baby's heartbeat, which made Peter and Olivia gush all over again. Neither of them could believe they were in this position – married young and having a son, when they had both been kind of loners their entire lives. It really was a miracle that they had this little family now, and they both felt it.

But Olivia noticed the smile fall away from Peter's face as he watched the doctor. "Peter?"

"Doc, is everything OK?" he asked.

Dr Ross was checking the images very carefully, a concerned look on her face that scared them both to death. "The heartbeat's a little slower than we like to hear."

"Is that dangerous?" asked Olivia. "I mean, should we be worried?"

"I'm just going to take a closer look at everything."

The silence that followed was filled with fear. Olivia squeezed Peter's hand, the worst possible scenarios screaming through her head. She wondered if the baby was dying. They couldn't go through that again. Suddenly she imagined having to tell Ella that there wasn't a baby coming anymore and that was almost too much for her to bear.

"Doc, is he alright?" Peter asked again, worry evident in his voice. Olivia ran her thumb over the back of his hand in comfort. It broke her heart to see him scared.

"I'm just going to get another doctor to take a look at this. Until we know exactly what's going on it's best to try not to worry," Dr Ross said, trying her best to keep them calm. Asking them if they needed anything before she left, she went to get the other doctor, leaving them alone together.

Olivia was trying not to cry. "Peter…"

"Shhh…" he whispered, stroking her hair. "I'm sure it's nothing serious. She's just going to check, OK?"

Olivia turned her face from him suddenly, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Olivia? What's wrong?"

"You're glimmering," she muttered.

He sighed, not knowing what to say to that. Gripping her hand and kissing it softly, he silently willed her not to be scared. They heard something buzz and Peter pulled his phone from his pocket. "It's Sonya," he said, reading the text. "She wants to know if it's a boy or a girl."

"Tell her."

"Livia, are you sure?"

She nodded. "Everybody's waited so long, they deserve to know. And I'm sure we can get through whatever's happening with the baby. Just text everyone and let them know."

"Olivia, it's going to be OK," he said softly, not sure he believed it himself.

"I know."

He texted all their friends to tell them it was a boy and Dr Ross came back into the room with another doctor. They looked through the ultrasound images together, speaking in hushed tones. Peter and Olivia were really starting to worry now. This was insane. They'd never thought their baby could have something wrong with him.

Finally Peter couldn't take it anymore. "Doc, please tell us if he's OK."

Dr Ross looked between him and his wife sympathetically. "To be honest with you, we're not quite sure. We think your baby may have a condition affecting his abdomen but it's very rare and neither of us have seen it before. We'd like you to see a doctor at Boston Women's and Children's Hospital to do some tests – they have better equipment and more specialised staff up there who handle these kinds of issues. We'll give them a call to let them know you're coming."

They just nodded, not knowing what to say. This couldn't be happening to them.

"What you need to know is that this isn't an emergency," Dr Ross assured them. "You're baby's heartbeat is stable and he doesn't appear to be in any distress. Staying calm is the best thing you can do for your baby."

Still in shock, they called Broyles to let him know they'd be gone all day and went to Boston W&C for the tests. They had blood work done as well as extra scans, but the nurses performing the tests were very reluctant to tell them what was going on until the doctor arrived to explain it to them.

As they waited for the doctor to come back with the results, Peter and Olivia could barely grasp what was happening. They were numbed by shock but at the same time they felt an incredible sense of paralysing dread. As Olivia lay back in her hospital bed, Peter sat beside her in a chair, rubbing her stomach and placing a light kiss there.

"Please don't be too sick, little one," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "We've already fallen in love with you."

"Peter, how did we not consider this? I thought once we got past the first three months without having a miscarriage we'd be fine. We've been talking about names and birthing methods and wall colours and shit but we never even stopped to think that something could be wrong with him."

"Olivia, every couple who gets pregnant assumes that their baby is healthy. We were no exception."

She shook her head, fighting tears in some futile attempt to be strong. "We're not prepared for this."

"I know. But we'll work it out, OK? We'll hear what the doctors have to say and just take it a step at a time. We'll make it through this."

Olivia exhaled a shaky breath, holding her growing belly in both hands. "Peter, promise me you'll love this baby no matter what's wrong with him."

"Livia, of course I will."

"Promise me. Please."

He nodded, fighting tears himself. "I promise. We'll love him no matter what. Try and stay calm, Livi. We need to keep you healthy too."

"Don't worry about me, worry about the baby."

"I'm worried about both of you."

"Are you scared?" she asked him. He nodded, his face portraying deep sorrow and helplessness. She kissed him in need of comfort and held his hand as a doctor entered their room.

"Mr Bishop, Mrs Dunham, my name is Frank Stanton, I'm the neonatal surgeon overseeing your son's case."

"You think he needs surgery?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. I'm very sorry, but I need to just ask you a couple of questions, if that's OK?"

They nodded mutely, barely hanging on.

"Do either of you have a history of congenital defects in the family?"

They both shook their heads.

"Are you sure you've been staying away from toxins like alcohol, caffeine, drugs..."

"Yes, absolutely."

"Any serious drug use or alcohol addiction in the past?"

For Olivia that was a kick in the gut. Had she caused her baby to be sick? Fighting tears, she answered the doctor. "I was addicted to heroin for two months a few years ago."

"How long have you been clean?"

"Almost four years. Is that what's hurting my baby?"

"No, Mrs Dunham. What's happening here isn't your fault. These are just things we need to know so we can effectively treat your son."

"What exactly is wrong with him? Please, nobody's been telling us anything all day."

Frank sighed. "I'm sorry to say that your son has what's called an omphalocele."

Olivia had no idea what that meant, which made the word all the more terrifying, but next to her Peter gripped her hand. "Doc, you can't be serious," he said.

"Peter, what's wrong with him?"

He bit back tears as he turned to her. "Olivia, you need to know that it's going to be OK."

"But I don't understand. I'm not a scientist like you. Can someone explain this to me in plain English please?"

"Mrs Dunham, an omphalocele is a rare condition where some of the baby's abdominal organs grow in a sac outside its body."

Whatever Olivia was expecting to hear, it wasn't that. While it was devastating news, part of her wanted to laugh out of shock. "What?" she finally managed to say. "His organs… That's ridiculous."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're sure this is what's wrong with your son."

"No, that can't be right," she insisted, trying so hard not to cry.

"Livia…"

"No! I did everything I was supposed to. I didn't drink, I stopped buying coffee, I got enough sleep, I ate all the right foods. I did everything right. My baby can't be sick, he can't. This is all wrong."

"Mrs Dunham, this isn't your fault at all. It's a very rare congenital disorder, we don't even know exactly how it works or what causes it to occur in certain individuals. It's only present in about 1 in 5000 pregnancies."

"Is he going to die?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He will need surgery soon after his birth but we expect him to make a full recovery. Luckily the baby's sac of organs is very small and only contains some of his intestines as opposed to a large one carrying his liver as well. Barring any complications during the surgery, he'll grow up to be a perfectly normal boy - eating normally, playing sport. Children are very resilient after surgery. We'll be monitoring him closely throughout your pregnancy to make sure the sac doesn't grow, but it seems to be minimal. You would even be able to deliver vaginally, just like a regular birth situation. I assure you, it sounds worse than it is, Mrs Dunham."

"Is he in pain?"

"No, foetuses are unable to feel pain until the third trimester, and even then we can't be sure how much pain they are capable of feeling. Don't worry, Mrs Dunham, I'm sure your son won't be in any pain. By the time he's born he'll be accustomed to the omphalocele, it'll be normal for him so it won't bother him at all."

She nodded, trying to take it all in. Her baby wasn't dying and he wasn't suffering. That was important for her to know. She cradled her belly in both hands, wishing so badly that she could hold her son and tell him everything would be OK.

"So what happens now?" Peter asked, his voice like gravel.

"Well, we have some of the best neo-natal specialists in the country on staff here at Boston Women's and Children's, so your wife and son are in good hands. We'll be monitoring both mother and child closely and have you both come in for weekly scans from now on. An omphalocele is commonly paired with heart, lung or stomach conditions, so we need to keep an eye out for further problems. Because his heart rate is a little slow we will be especially monitoring his cardiac development to determine whether or not he'll need an additional surgery."

"Another surgery?" Peter choked. "On his heart?"

"It's a possibility, but as far as we can tell there's not a need for that yet," Frank replied. "I know this has been a horrific day for the two of you and this is a lot to absorb, but we will be doing everything we can to keep both baby and mother healthy. Mrs Dunham, take extra care not to over-stress yourself or undertake any strenuous activity, and give us a call immediately if you experience any worrying changes in your pregnancy or your baby's activity. We will do some more tests next week and we will have our neonatal counsellors on hand to help you both come to terms with this. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"No, I don't think so."

"OK, then the best thing you both can do right now is go home and get some rest." He handed them his business card. "My mobile's on here. If you ever need anything at all or have any questions, please call me, day or night."

"Thank you," they said, and he left them alone so Olivia could change out of her hospital gown.

Olivia got dressed and was ready to go, but Peter could see how upset she was. She was trying so hard to be strong, she was refusing to cry but all the while she was shaking. "Livia…"

"He'll be fine," she said, like it was nothing. Maybe she was still in shock, he thought.

"Livia, we should talk about this."

"What's there to talk about? The doctor said they know how to fix him and his version of the condition is relatively minimal, so we have no reason to be worried. It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Livi, look at me," he said gently, cupping her trembling face. "Livia, he's not OK. Before we can move on and let the doctors make him better we need to accept that."

It wasn't long before she broke down completely in his arms, clinging to him for dear life as she sobbed against his shoulder, their baby pressed between them. "Oh, Livi," he whispered, tears hanging in his eyes. "It's going to be alright."

"What did we do wrong?" she cried.

"Nothing, sweetheart. It's not our fault."

"What if..." she whimpered. "Oh God, Peter, what if he dies?"

"That's not going to happen. You heard what the doctor said. He'll be a normal kid after the surgery."

"But I don't understand. Why did this happen? Why him?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," he choked.

"He's just a little baby," Olivia sobbed. "It's not fair."

"I know. I know. Shhhh… It's OK. We're gonna work this out."

She shook in his arms, just crying and crying. "He'll be OK, right? Peter, please tell me he'll be OK."

He choked, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as a tear leaked down his face. "I hope so, sweetheart. I really hope so."

When they finally pulled themselves together they drove home in a heartbroken silence. Olivia couldn't stop crying. Peter could barely handle it himself, so he knew it must have been worse for her with her hormones going nuts and everything. Olivia wanted to speak to her sister, so he called Rachael to come over and comfort her while he left for an hour or two to clear his head.

After a fair few drinks and some time to vent all his anger, he was left with only despair and eventually ended up at the last place he ever expected to find himself. He knocked on the door and Walter answered, surprised to see his son standing on his doorstep in the rain. "Son?"

"Hello Walter."

"Would you like to come in?"

"No. I just… I don't know."

"Where's Olivia?"

"At home."

"Have you been drinking?"

Peter scoffed. "You could say that."

Walter swallowed, holding his head up. "If you have come to scold me again then go ahead. I know its less than I deserve."

"That's not why I came, Walter. I came here to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"And to forgive you. And to say that I'm sorry."

"I don't understand."

Peter exhaled, running a hand over his face. "You crossed universes to save my life. That's got to count for something. I never understood that until now. I don't know why it has never made sense to me before, but it does today. You knew that I was dying and you went through all that to keep me alive, and now..."

Peter couldn't help it. His face crumbled and he started to cry.

"Son? What's wrong?"

"Walter, my baby's sick," he choked. "He's got an omphalocele and a slow heart and they say he could need multiple surgeries once he's born."

"Oh Peter…"

"I can't let him die, Walter. He's mine. My little boy... If I could cross universes to save his life I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I can't, Walter. I can't so anything. And it tears me up."

Walter laid a hand on Peter's shoulder, unsure of how to comfort him. "Peter, it's going to be alright. I'm sure the surgery will be successful and my grandson will be just fine."

Peter wiped his bleary eyes with the heels of his hands. "I need to go back to Olivia," he muttered. "I just had to come by and say that I get it now. I understand what you did. So I'm sorry I hated you for it. And I forgive you for kidnapping me. And thank you so much for saving my life, even if my life is something of a nightmare right now. Coz I'd do it for my boy if I could. I'd do just about anything. I'd do anything," he said softly, turning his back on Walter and digging his hands into his pockets, heading back out into the rain.

**Please please review! That was a tough chap I know, but I did warn you guys that this story would be very sad, possibly the saddest of the trilogy. **

**Now that you know it's a boy, please suggest first/middle names! So far the front runners are Marcus, Ryan, Max, Aaron, Ethan, Liam, Sean, Connor, Daniel, Michael, Adam, and Tommy. If you like any of these let me know or suggest something else. If anyone suggests Jacob, Edward, or Mike "the situation" Bishop, I may slap them. Be warned. **

**Ps. Someone suggested that since I like writing AUs so much I should do something really far out – a Western's already being done ("Outlawed" by ThatClutzsarahh, check it out), but they suggested something like P/O in the Jane Austen era. I've never been a massive Jane Austen fan but I'm willing to try it, and a story's already forming in my head. Is there anyone who'd like to see me write this? If not, I won't bother. Let me know.**


	16. Married Life

**Chapter 16: Married Life**

**References: Peter playing soccer as a kid (6:02am EST), Peter hating Bach (Ghost Network), Dunham, why didn't you come to me?" (Bad Dreams), Walter's breakfast (6B),**

"There you go. All done," a nurse said to Olivia, pulling a needle from her arm. "We should have the results ready for your next appointment. Hopefully the blood work will give us a better idea of how the baby's going."

"OK. Thank you," Olivia replied, holding a cotton bud against the bleeding hole in her arm. While she hated needles she was getting used to being poked and prodded - it felt like they'd just had doctor's appointments non-stop for the past month since they found out the baby was sick. "We really appreciate you letting me come in so late like this. It's just that our jobs are so unpredictable, it's hard for us to make daytime appointments."

"It's no trouble. How've you and your husband been coping with all this?" she asked sympathetically.

Olivia forced a weak smile. "You know, OK. It's strange. We're still getting used to it all, I think."

"That's understandable. Nobody expects their baby to be sick, especially their first - and you're both so young. But you've got a little fighter in there, he's doing really well."

"I hope so."

"OK, well that's all for today, Mrs Dunham. Is there anything more I can do for you?"

"Actually, do you think you could please give this form to Dr Stanton to fill out? It's from our HMO, they're really fighting us over insurance coverage for all this. They said they need more details from the hospital about our baby's condition before they help us pay for his surgery and all these tests."

The nurse took the form and shook her head sadly. "Horrible, those insurance companies. We need a universal healthcare system in this country. Of course, I'll give to him when he gets out of surgery."

"Thank you. I'll see you next week then."

"Yep, see you then."

Olivia headed downstairs to the billing department, taking a deep breath and running a hand through her hair. Things had been hard for her and Peter lately, trying to cope financially with the strain of their baby's illness. He needed scans and tests all the time to check on his heart and the omphalocele, and seeing neonatal specialists wasn't cheap. But they had no choice. Their son's condition was so rare that regular obstetricians didn't quite know how to deal with it. But beyond the pinch of all these tests, they had the added dread of paying for his omphalocele surgery, and maybe open heart surgery after that. It was a nightmare. Their FBI benefits would only cover certain medical costs for Olivia and Peter but not their children, and they'd been fighting tooth and nail with their insurance company to get any kind of financial assistance in paying for the baby's surgery. Once she got to billing, Olivia regrettably handed over her credit card to pay for her blood test, wondering how on earth they were going to keep up with all these payments. Feeling a little kick, she ran her hand over her sixth month belly. "It's OK," she said, trying to comfort the baby but also herself. "You're worth it, beautiful boy. Mommy and Daddy aren't gonna let anything bad happen to you. It's gonna be OK."

She really hoped that was true. She wasn't so sure.

* * *

><p>By the time Olivia got home, Peter was already in the living room, surrounded by paperwork, on the phone to their latest arch enemy from their HMO. From the moment she entered, she felt a sense of dread. Peter was furious, pacing, yelling into the phone. "No, I… Yes, I understand that it's a rare condition…" he was saying, clearly frustrated. Seeing her come in, his face softened and he kissed her cheek, causing her catch a glimpse of the conversation from the other end of the phone. He held up a finger to signal for her to give him a moment, so she left him to argue with the insurance company. But even as she was getting changed in their bedroom, she could hear Peter losing it.<p>

"Well, that's not what our contract is saying… I'm sorry, I couldn't possibly have heard you right. You're denying us the coverage because my baby's condition is considered "non-life-threatening"? Are you serious? Since when is having your organs on the outside of your body not life-threatening? I… No, I've already sent that over, along with half a dozen letters from the staff at our hospital explaining that the operation is necessary for his survival. How… Oh, so his surgery is surgery is too experimental now? This is bullshit! My son needs this surgery to live. He's going to die without this surgery, don't you understand that? It's an $80,000 procedure and he may need more surgeries after that, plus his aftercare - we simply can't afford it. And despite what you've been saying, it's covered under the contract that we've been paying for. I've read your conditions over and over. What our baby has is not a lifestyle disease, it's not caused by negligence or mistreatment during pregnancy - it's a life-threatening and unforeseen congenital disorder that requires a conventional and non-experimental treatment… You need medical support for the claim that it's a non-experimental procedure? And how many doctors would you like me to have contact you this time? ...Fine, I'll get them to contact you again."

Listening to all this, Olivia rested against the bedroom door and wept, terrified that they were never going to make it out of this. Her baby started kicking and rolling over inside her. He seemed to always know when she was upset. "Shhh…." She whispered, rubbing her hands over her belly. "It's OK. We're gonna make sure you get your surgery. We'll find a way. I promise."

There was a knock at the door. "Livia? You OK?"

"Yeah," she said, opening it and stepping out to let her husband hug her.

He kissed her hair and wiped some tears from her face. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, sweetheart."

"It's OK. I know how hard you're trying to fix this." Sighing, Olivia took his hand and led him back to the couch outside. "Peter, we've been going over all our finances and I just don't see how we can afford this surgery."

"Olivia, it's going to be alright."

"Peter, don't. I'm only 27, you're 28, and we're about to be parents. We're working public service jobs in the Bush economy without a universal healthcare system. Nothing is going to be alright."

"We'll work something out, Livia. We just don't know what yet." Taking a moment, he rubbed his eyes. "Livi, I put the piano up on EBay. It's not much but it'll get us a couple grand at least."

"You didn't. Peter, please…"

"Look, I know I promised I wouldn't, but we don't have any choice."

"It won't help much anyway. We're in way over our heads here. We're going to have to sell the apartment. There's no other way. Rachael and Greg have offered us a place to live if we need it. I don't care if we have to sell our home and everything in it, but the please don't sell the piano. Our piano and our wedding rings are the only things I'll never sell. Everything else can go if it has to - even the apartment."

"Livi, we love this place. We've lived here since you were an intern."

"I know. But we love our son more. And we need the money. It's just like when Rach and I moved in here because we had to sell the house when Mum got cancer. I've done this before, I can do it again. And I know you can handle it, too."

"Olivia, this is our home…"

Nodding, she rested forwards, putting her head in her hands. A shaky breath escaped her and he could tell she was crying. "Livi…"

"Peter, I'm so scared."

"I know, sweetheart. Me too."

"What if we still can't afford his treatment, Peter? What if he dies?" she sobbed. "What if he dies and he never knows that I loved him?"

The pain in her voice echoed his own, breaking his heart a hundred times over. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and kissing her hair. "Oh sweetheart, he already knows. He knows. You're his mother. He knows your body, your smell, he knows your voice. He knows my voice too, and the music I play for him. He knows he's loved, whatever happens, OK?"

Sniffling, she nodded, trying to even her breathing. They stayed like that for a long time, just comforting each other. "I'm so tired," she whispered. "You coming to bed?"

"In a minute. Let me just take another look at these forms."

"Peter, not tonight. You've done enough today. Just come to bed, please."

"OK," he said, kissing her softly.

They went to bed but it was hard for Olivia to sleep, even on her side with a pillow supporting her belly, which had become a favourite position lately. Peter couldn't get much sleep either, always worrying about his wife and child. Next to him in bed, she winced, which didn't go unnoticed by Peter.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. He's just playing a bit of soccer in there. He always does that when I'm scared – it's like he knows what I'm feeling all the time."

"Well, you are sharing a body - that makes sense."

Nodding, she rubbed her hands over her belly, whispering calming words to the baby. "Shhh… I know, little one, I know...I'm scared too... It's gonna be OK. I'm right here…"

"He settling?" Peter asked her.

"A little." She turned over, groaning a little at the effort, and touched Peter's cheek. "Can you try and calm him down? He always listens to you."

"I'll try, but you need to relax too, OK?"

"OK."

"It's going to be fine," he promised, kissing her softly before moving down her body to kiss her stomach, placing a calming hand over the spots where the baby was kicking most. "Buddy, please be good for your mom so she can get some rest. She's really sad right now and I know you don't want her to be sad. We're really worried about you. I know it's scary but you're gonna be OK. Mommy and Daddy love you very much and we're gonna keep you safe. Relax, little one, just relax…"

As he whispered to the baby, Olivia let herself relax too, feeling herself fall asleep to his comforting words as the baby slowly settled inside her.

"That's good, buddy, just calm down. Mommy tells me you like to play soccer in her tummy. I used to play soccer when I was a little boy. I'd love to teach you. You wanna play soccer with Daddy? I'm sure Mommy would love to see that. Your mom's so beautiful, you're going to love her so much. She sings to you every night, and I play piano for you sometimes. I can't wait till we get to meet you, little guy. I love you so much… Everything's gonna be OK. I promise…"

* * *

><p>The next morning Olivia was sitting at her desk at work with headphones over her belly. One of the nurses suggested it – apparently classicalbaroque music calms babies and gives their brain some extra stimulation, helps to soothe them, things like that. "What's the little guy listening to?" Charlie asked from his desk nearby, clearly bored with his work.

She checked her iPod. "Uhh…Bach. Don't tell Peter, though, he hates Bach."

Charlie shook his head in mock disapproval. "I've always been more of a Tchaikovsky person myself."

She laughed. "Yeah, he's pretty good too."

He gestured to her stomach. "You still worried about him?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"I'm not," he said sincerely, giving her a reassuring smile. "His mom's tough as nails and his dad's the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived with all the trouble he's gotten himself out of, so with those genes that little guy's got pretty good odds." He scooted a little closer on his wheelie chair. "Hey Liv…"

"Yeah?"

"I know things haven't been easy for you and Peter lately, with the baby being sick and everything. How are you guys handling it all?"

She gave him a weak smile, instinctively running her hand over her stomach. "It's been OK."

He smiled back, raising an eyebrow. "Livvy, I know you way too well for you to be lying to me…"

She knew he was right – she was never able to fool Charlie, not even when they were college kids. Her eyes bleary, she bit back the tears and gave him another weak smile. "Honestly?" she said. "Things are pretty hard. We're uh…we're having trouble making ends meet, you know, with his surgery and everything coming up. We're saving everything we have for it, but we still think we're going to have to sell the apartment. Rachael's offered for us to stay with her family until things get easier."

"Livvy, I'm sorry. I had no idea things were that bad," he said sincerely. "But you know there's always a place for you at our house, right? All three of you can stay with us as long as you need to, we'd love to have you there."

"I know," she said softly.

"Livvy, I know what you're thinking," he said. "Don't ever be embarrassed about asking for help. That's what friends are for, right?"

She bit back tears, nodding. "Charlie I just…I can't help but feel like I'm failing the baby – Peter, too. Especially when…you know what, never mind."

"Come on, Livvy, what is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid."

"Please," he scoffed. "Nothing you say could ever possibly be stupid. Come on, what's up? Why do you feel like you're failing Peter?"

She shrugged, wishing she could brush it off. "It's just… It was our anniversary a few weeks ago – our first anniversary."

"Livvy, you didn't say anything!" Charlie said, laughing. "Now your present from Sonya and I is gonna be late."

She laughed, loving the way Charlie always made the effort to make her smile. "While that's very generous of you, it's just… I dunno, Peter and I, we've been so stressed about keeping up with these medical bills that we couldn't afford to do anything for our anniversary, or get each other anything special. We just spent the day together, and it was nice, it just – I don't know, it just wasn't the same. I feel really guilty about it. It's been a hell of a year for us. I know every dollar we have is going towards the baby right now, but I just wish we could have had one night out to celebrate and forget everything else, you know?"

"Livvy, you guys should have told us about all this. We can help you."

"Dunham!" a booming voice called out across the room. Olivia turned to see her authoritative boss looking at her. "My office. Now."

"Yes, sir." She turned to Charlie. "Sorry, I've got to go. I'll see you later."

"OK," he said as she left. Once she was gone, he pulled out his phone and dialled a number. "Hey Astrid? It's Charlie. We need to talk about Olivia and Peter…"

When Olivia got to Broyles' office, she quickly realised she wasn't in trouble as she expected. Instead he looked on her with compassion, inviting her to take a seat. "What's going on, Dunham?"

She was confused. "In relation to what, sir?"

"You've been working double shifts non-stop this week. That can't be healthy for someone in your condition."

"I'm managing, sir."

"But why are you working so hard?"

She looked down at her fidgeting hands, embarrassed. "We're struggling at the moment," she said softly.

"You and Peter?"

She nodded, trying to keep herself from crying and cursing her hormones as she explained the situation. He exhaled, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk and looking to her earnestly. "Dunham, why didn't you come to me?"

She gave him a small smile, shrugging. "Our family is helping to support us. We're working it out, sir."

"I'll make a few calls and see what I can do about getting the FBI benefits to cover the baby's surgery and let you know what happens. Dunham I can try and help you with things like this but you have to come to me so I can do that. Don't work late again tonight. Go home after lunch and get some rest – Peter too. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

* * *

><p>That Sunday morning, Olivia and Peter were called early to go over to Walter's house for some unknown reason. They expected that he'd made a breakthrough with the case, but when they got there, they found Walter busily cooking in the kitchen in his favourite apron. "Ah, here you are!" he exclaimed as they came in, rushing over to meet them and bringing them into the dining room, where he'd set up a table for them with candles and plates full of scrumptious food (including the famous Bishop blueberry pancakes).<p>

"What's the occasion, Walter?" Peter asked.

"Well Charlie found out that you hadn't done anything for your anniversary so he called me and the others to organise a day for you to celebrate."

"Oh my God, he didn't…" Olivia murmured, totally embarrassed. "Peter, I'm sorry I said something, I didn't think Charlie would make a big deal out of it like this."

"Livia, it's OK," he said. "It was really nice of them to put this together. Let's not waste the effort."

She nodded, smiling to her father-in-law. "Thank you for making us breakfast, Walter."

"You're welcome, my dear. I'll go and leave you lovebirds to it. Rachael and Charlie are coming by to pick you up soon."

"Woah, woah, woah – pick us up? Where are they taking us?"

"I don't believe I'm allowed to tell you."

"Walter, exactly how many people are in on this?"

"Let me see…Charlie and Sonya, Rachael and Greg, me, Astrid, Lincoln…yes, everybody. We just know it's been a very hard year for the two of you. You deserve it."

Peter gave his father a hug. "Thank you, Walter," he said sincerely. "I really appreciate this."

Walter left to let them eat their pancakes in peace, wondering what on earth the others had planned for them. When they were done, Rachael came to get Olivia and Charlie came for them. "Charlie," Olivia said. "I'm really sorry I said anything the other day. I never meant for you guys to go through all this trouble."

"Livvy, we wanted to. Things have been so rough for the two of you this year. You both needed this, even if you didn't know it."

"But Charlie…"

"No, Olivia," Rachael said. "We all wanted to, we really did. We all chipped in the amount of money we would have spent on a gift for you guys anyway and pooled it together to pay for everything."

"Thank you so much," Peter said, laughing a little. "I know my wife is a little overwhelmed right now but believe me, she's grateful too."

"Yeah, I am," Olivia agreed, giving Charlie a huge hug whispering an emphatic thank you in his ear before hugging her sister. Olivia laughed to herself suddenly.

"What?" asked Charlie.

"You know what this reminds me of? That time at the Academy when it was my birthday and I didn't want to do anything, then you and Peter organised a surprise party for me on the roof of Peter's bar? That was a great night."

"We had our first kiss at that party," Peter remembered.

"So Charlie's been your match-maker all along, huh?" Rachael joked.

"Come on, like I could ever take credit for these two," Charlie replied. "Now Olivia, you're going shopping with Rachael while Peter, Lincoln and I watch the game and talk about some stuff, OK?"

"Oh my gosh… What did you guys plan?"

"You don't get to find out yet, missy," Charlie teased. "Come on, Peter, let's go."

The pairs went in to separate directions. Olivia interrogated her sister the whole way in the car. "Rachael, what is going on? Nobody's telling us anything. I feel like you're abducting me."

"Don't be so dramatic. We're just going shopping. Astrid and Sonya are meeting us there."

They drove into the city and the girls spent the day together hanging out, and after much struggle, they finally got Olivia to try on dresses until they found one that was perfect for her. No matter how much she begged, they wouldn't tell her what the dress was for and this annoyed her to no end.

When they dropped her home, she found that Peter was already there waiting for her. "Hey," she said, kissing him.

"Hey, sweetheart. What did you do with the girls?"

"They took me dress shopping, which is no easy feat at the best of times but especially not now that I can only wear maternity clothes. But we found something in the end. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Actually I do. Charlie and Lincoln gave me all the plans for tonight."

"And?"

"You might want to pack a bag for the night. We're going to New York."

Olivia almost choked on thin air. "New York?"

"I know," Peter said, shaking his head and smiling. "We have amazing friends, Olivia. They got us a room for a night and a reservation at this restaurant near Central Park. Everything's paid for. All of them chipped in – Astrid, Charlie and Sonya, Lincoln, Rachael and Greg, Walter, everyone."

"Oh my God," Olivia whispered, tears in her eyes. "I can't believe they did this for us."

Peter nodded, just as overwhelmed. "I'm sorry we couldn't do it our way," he said regretfully. "I'll make it up to you next year, I promise."

"Don't worry," she said. "We have plenty of years to look forward to."

"I love you," he said, kissing her soundly. They called everybody to thank them a thousand times over and packed their bags for the drive to New York for the night. They got to their room and Olivia changed into her new dress, stealing Peter's breath away. It was dark green like her eyes, not hiding her baby bump but accentuating the natural glow that had come about her in the last few months. Feeling like the luckiest man in the world, he smiled and gave her a kiss. "I know it's like a month late, but Happy Anniversary, sweetheart."

"Happy Anniversary, Peter." She smiled, kissing him back.

He handed her a single red rose. "For our first year of being married," he explained before handing her a white one. "And this is for being my little boy's mother."

She smelled them, a beautiful smile blossoming on her face. "Thank you, Peter," she whispered, hooking her arms around his neck and kissing him again, her sixth month belly pressed between them.

They went down to the restaurant and couldn't believe how wonderful everything was. They had amazing friends who'd prepared this night for them and had been so thoughtful in choosing New York, Olivia and Peter's favourite city to travel to. They had a beautiful baby on the way, and while they were terrified about him being sick they held onto the hope of him having a bright future. They had each other, even though the world had been threatening to fall away beneath their feet in recent times. The fact that they could get dressed up, sit in a nice restaurant together, eat and talk and laugh and forget everything else was nothing short of a miracle to them.

Afterwards they walked hand in hand down to the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park where they'd had their (second) first kiss, way back when Olivia was a junior agent. They loved coming to this place whenever they were in New York – it held so many memories for them. Sitting on the edge of the fountain together, Olivia squeezed Peter's hand. "Can you believe it's been a whole year?"

Peter laughed. "Well, a little more than a year now, but yeah. It's been tough, but it's been wonderful too."

She nodded, hooking her arm into his and leaning against his shoulder. "It has been hard," she admitted. "But things have never really been easy for us, have they?"

"No, I guess not."

"But you're right," she said. "It has been wonderful. We're strong, you and I. I know that we'll always be in love, no matter what gets thrown at us. And now with the baby and everything…I'm scared about him being sick but I'm so excited about us being parents, you know?"

"Yeah. It's been crazy, really. It's like our life's always really happy or really terrible, but we've never quit. And I don't plan on quitting, ever. When we got married I promised you in front of all our friends that I'd be faithful to you in good times and bad. I'm not going back on that."

"Me neither," she said, turning to kiss him. She smoothed her hands over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Olivia smiled to herself. This was the man she loved, and who loved her. This was the man who would kiss her children goodnight. A year into marriage, he was still her first pick. He always would be. "Thank you so much for this last year. I know it took ages for you to convince me to marry you, but being your wife has been incredible. I can't wait for all the years we'll have together. I can't wait for us to be a family. I just…I love you so much."

He smiled, a thumb caressing her cheek. "I love you too." He leaned closer for another kiss.

And then Olivia's phone rang.

They groaned, pulling apart. She checked the caller ID. "Broyles."

"You've got to be kidding me. Not tonight."

Sighing and dreading the latest fringe emergency, she answered the phone and Peter looked on as Olivia had a conversation with her boss that left her in tears as she hung up.

"Livia, what's wrong?"

She laughed through her tears, hugging him and holding him close. "Peter, you won't believe it."

"What is it?"

"Broyles called up the chain of command for us to try and get us some help with our work benefits. He says the FBI's going to pay for everything the baby and I will need once he's born."

"_Everything?_" Peter exclaimed, completely shocked.

She nodded, joyful tears slipping down her cheeks. "Their paying for our childbirth bills, my treatment afterwards, his surgeries, his care in the NICU – everything. We only need to keep paying for everything pre-birth, just the tests and check-ups and stuff. That's still going to be a lot for us to pay for but this helps so much. We're not going to be hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt anymore. Oh my God, Peter, I'm so happy."

He was speechless as he held her close, trying to get the news to sink in. "So we don't have to sell our apartment anymore?"

"No we don't. Everything's going to be fine."

The news finally hit him then. They were going to keep their home. He could take their piano off EBay. It'd be a stretch to pay for all of Olivia's tests and appointments, but now they didn't have to pay for an $80,000 surgery and everything that came with it.

In his arms, Olivia was still weeping out of shock and joy. He smoothed some hair out of her face. "Shh, sweetheart, don't cry."

She laughed. "Sorry, I'm just so happy." Looking down, she ran a hand over her extended stomach. "Feels like he's happy too."

Peter reached over and felt his little boy kicking lightly against his hand. Olivia laughed as she watched Peter's face light up at the sensation. "Does that hurt?" he asked her curiously.

"No, it's just really odd. Sometimes if he kicks really hard or in certain positions it's uncomfortable, though. He's being gentle right now. He's just saying hi to his Daddy."

Grinning, he knelt down as Olivia sat by the fountain and cradled her belly in both hands, giving it a kiss. "Hey buddy, did you hear that? You're gonna get your surgery and the doctors are gonna make you all better. We told you everything was going to be OK. Mommy and Daddy are always going to look after you. We love you so much."

He felt another little kick against his hand and grinned up at his wife. Life was good again.

**Sorry again for the long chapter! Almost 5000 words! Please write me a few? Reviews always appreciated : )**


	17. Answers

**References: "you abused us" (Jacksonville), "you're not alone here" (Same Old Story), "big outfit, spy stuff" (Brown Betty), "normal" (LSD), "always hope" (6955 kHz), opening the window (There's More than One of Everything)**

**Song lyrics are from Self-Esteem by Offspring**

"Livia? You here?" Peter called out as he came home from work early to take Olivia to the hospital for her latest appointment.

"Hey," she called back. He followed the sound of her voice, and some music, until he found her resting on their bed with the radio on.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, just having a break. The baby's wearing me out."

"What have you been doing all day?" he asked as he hopped onto the bed beside her.

"Mostly doing stuff in the baby's room. Working part time is boring as hell."

"I know. I'm sorry, but the doctors said you really need to relax yourself so they baby doesn't get sicker."

"I know, it's just weird not being at work every day. Astrid came over earlier, though, so that helped. She brought us a present too, take a look," she said, laughing and tossing him a piece of baby clothing.

Unfolding it, he noticed that the tiny grey t-shirt had MIT written across the front, much like his own college shirt. He laughed. "Where the hell did she find this?"

"Apparently she's got a cousin at the uni, she was visiting and saw the shirt. It seems she's got big aspirations for our son," Olivia said, running her hands over her now seven month belly.

Peter's heart warmed the thought of his son achieving great things and he gave his wife a kiss. "What's the baby's room look like so far? Can I see?"

"No, you can't yet. Peter, we talked about this. It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Come on, one peek."

"No."

"Just one?"

"No!"

"Pwease?" he begged, giving her his best puppy dog eyes – the ones that were so cute they basically screamed 'adopt me'.

She shook her head, smiling. "You told me you wanted it to be a surprise."

"I changed my mind."

"You'll see it soon, OK? You already know everything that's going in the room, since we bought all the baby stuff together. You just don't know how I'm painting it and stuff."

"You can't possibly be taking this long just to paint the room. You're up to something else, I can tell."

"I might be," she teased. "But it'll be ages before you ever know what it is."

The song on the radio changed and Olivia gasped, grinning and moving her hands over her stomach. "He's doing it again," she laughed.

"Doing what?"

"I've been sitting here flicking through radio stations with him for like half an hour – it's hilarious. If the song's loud enough he'll actually kick in time with it."

"Seriously?" he asked, attaching his hands to her belly.

"Seriously. You should have seen him before you got here. He was doing his own little dances to Soulja Boy and Sexy Back in there, I'm not kidding. He has weird taste but I'm glad he's inherited his Daddy's love for music."

"Sexy Back, huh? That makes sense. With our genes we're bound to have a very sexy baby," Peter laughed, feeling his son kick relentlessly to some rock song. He recognised it and started singing along.

_I know she's playing with me_

_But that's OK coz I've got no self-esteem_

_Oh way-o yeah…_

Olivia laughed at his terrible but enthusiastic singing. "Who sings that song again, Peter?"

"Offspring."

"Yeah, let's keep it that way," she teased.

"Ouch," he groaned, clasping his heart in mock pain. "I feel gutted." He rubbed a hand over her belly in circles, addressing the baby. "Offspring are actually really good. Feels like you really like your punk music, buddy. There's hope for you yet…" He looked up to Olivia. "You know what this means, don't you? He's gonna grow up to drop out of high school, grow a mohawk, start a death metal band and run away to Europe or something."

"No, no, no, our baby is going to college," she insisted. "If he wants to study music there or whatever that's fine, but I want him to have a good education."

"Livia, not everybody goes to college. I didn't."

"Well, you sort of did. You faked your way through. But admit it, you got lucky. You're like the only person working for the FBI without a college degree."

"True. But I get what you mean. I want him to have good opportunities, too, but I wouldn't care that much if he dropped out to do something a little less traditional. As long as he's happy, you know?"

Olivia smiled, giving him a quick kiss. She loved that Peter had such a heart for this child, she saw it every day. They had heaps on fun changing the radio stations every thirty seconds to feel the way their baby reacted to each song. When they tuned in to classical radio, he'd mellow out, but hip hop and rock music would make him roll around like crazy and kick heaps. He seemed to prefer genres that had a strong, fast beat that he could kick along to. They loved that he wasn't just kicking anymore – he was actually interacting with them now, responding to things they did. It was almost like they were playing with him, even though he wasn't born yet. It was a wonderful feeling.

After a while, Peter drove them over to the hospital to meet with Dr Stanton over their latest batch of test results. "So far things are looking pretty good," Frank assured them. "Your baby's omphalacele isn't growing more than it should, he seems responsive to changes in the environment, he doesn't appear to be in distress and he seems to be developing normally. His lungs are a good size. We still have concerns about his heart but you're only at seven months, so we'll have to just keep an eye on it until he's born. We won't know the full extent of his condition until he's born, but for now he's doing really well."

"That's great."

"There is something else though," he said, mild concern crossing his face. "We've been going through your blood tests and there's a substance in your blood we can't identify. We're wondering if you knew anything about that."

Peter and Olivia just looked at each other. That had to be Cortexiphan. Neither of them knew what to say.

"I understand that it may be a sensitive topic," Dr Stanton said cautiously. "But if you do know what this substance is, it may affect how we treat you during and following childbirth, or even how we treat your son. If there's anything you know, you must tell us."

Olivia tried to swallow. "As you know we work for the FBI," she explained. "There are some things we can't discuss with you. But I can tell you that we do know what the substance is. Is it hurting my baby?"

"No, we don't think so. Like I've said, omphaloceles are a congenital disorder, anyone can get them and we don't really know what causes them. But this substance may affect what drugs we give you. I understand that your jobs deal with delicate information, but if you could maybe go back to the FBI and find out some more about this substance that would be helpful."

"What do you need to know?" Peter asked.

"Mainly we just need to find out if it can be passed to the child and also if there are any drugs it may react badly with."

"I want to do a natural birth anyway," Olivia said. "I won't be taking drugs. We just need to worry about my son."

"Yes, I understand, but should you need an emergency c-section or something like that we need to know you won't have negative reactions to the anaesthesia or any medicine we give you."

"Are you absolutely sure it's not hurting my baby?"

"I'm afraid until we know more about it we can't be absolutely sure of anything. I'm sorry. You need to talk to the FBI about this and get back to me as soon as you can."

They left the hospital completely shaken. They considered that they baby might have abilities like Olivia one day if the Cortexiphan was passed on, but they'd never thought it might be hurting the baby. It had never hurt Olivia or the other Cortexiphan kids – not physically anyway. After all, the drug was designed for children. In the car, Peter gripped the steering wheel, tearing through traffic.

"Peter, please slow down. You're stressing me out."

He seethed. "If Dr Stanton's wrong and Cortexiphan did cause our baby to be sick I'll kill Walter."

"Only if I don't kill him first," Olivia muttered.

Peter shook his head. "I can't believe I forgave that son of a bitch."

"We don't know it's true yet."

"No we don't. We have to ask him."

They drove in silence the rest of the way to the lab.

They didn't even check to see if Astrid was around. They found Walter bent over a microscope, intently studying. Before Peter could even think, Olivia had charged right up to Walter.

"Is Cortexiphan hurting our baby?"

"What?"

"Yes or no, Walter?" she snapped.

"Livia…" Peter said, trying to calm her down so they could just ask him.

"I knew that the drug might pass abilities on to him, and I made my peace with that," Olivia said, clearly upset. "But I swear to God, Walter, if that shit you put in my body is making him sick I will kill you myself!"

"No, it shouldn't be hurting him," Walter replied. "Omphaloceles are congenital, nothing causes them."

"Can you be sure it wouldn't harm him?"

"Belly and I designed Cortexiphan to be safe for children."

"Safe? You abused us, Walter!"

"We were doing what was best for you! And those drugs were extensively animal tested, they were harmless. None of the children who were given Cortexiphan experienced extreme physical side effects."

"But you gave it to us when we were three!" Olivia yelled. "He's just a foetus, he's still developing. That drug could be doing anything to him!"

"The drug is not the problem," Walter told her. "It's you that is the problem."

"How dare you!" Olivia shouted. "We've done everything we can to protect this baby!"

"That's not what I meant," Walter retorted. "The Cortexiphan isn't making your baby sick. It's you. You're both from different universes. You were never supposed to meet, let alone have children. Don't you see? The universe is trying to keep balance by not allowing the baby to live. Cortexiphan has given you and your baby abilities you wouldn't otherwise have and it is those abilities that are allowing the baby to survive the pregnancy."

"But that's just your theory, right Walter?" Peter asked. "How can we know for sure?"

"I could run some tests…"

"No way," Peter insisted. "You're not touching my wife or my son ever. You abused Olivia as a child and I'm not letting you do that again."

Walter seemed hurt by that. Peter had only forgiven him a couple of months ago, things were just starting to get better, and now they were light years apart again. "I promise you," he said. "The boy is not suffering from the drug. It's the mix of universes that's hurting him."

"And what if you're lying?" Olivia snapped. "What do we do then? Can you save him?"

"Olivia, dear, it's not that simple…"

"Can you?"

"This illness is congenital, Olivia – what's done is done. The best we can do is let the doctors operate once he is born. I'm sorry. There's nothing any of us can do."

"Then I haven't got another thing to say to you," she snapped, seething. "But believe me Walter, if I find out you're lying to me and our baby is actually fighting for his life because of what you've done, I will not rest until you're dead in the ground. I swear to God."

Olivia stormed out of the lab and Peter, although somewhat torn, had no choice but to follow her. "Olivia!" he called. "Olivia!"

When she turned back to him, her face was covered in tears and she was crying softly. His heart broke then and there. "Livia…" he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"I… I can't…" she sobbed, her whole body shaking.

"Shhh…just breathe."

"I love him so much…"

"Of course you do. He's our little boy," he spoke softly, rubbing circles in her back to calm her. "But the best thing you can do for him right now is relax. He can't take you stressing yourself - it's not good for him. Just take a deep breath. It's OK. We're gonna work this out."

"I'm scared…"

"I know, but you need to settle down. Take deep breaths. Good… Just slow right down…"

Eventually Olivia managed to calm herself, pulling out of Peter's grasp to wipe her face. "I'm sorry about the lab," she finally said. "I don't usually…."

"What?"

She swallowed. "Lose control."

He smiled softly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheeks. "To tell you the truth it was kind of a relief. You've been so together with everything that's going on, I was starting to develop an inferiority complex."

She smiled. Just a little, but she definitely smiled.

"Hey," he murmured, tucking some hair behind her ear as his other hand rested over her belly. "Knowing Walter's experiments on you or the fact that he stole me might be the reason our son is sick…" He sighed, shaking his head at the ground. "I just want you to know you're not alone here."

She nodded, letting him hold her again. "I don't know what's happening to me," she said after a moment. "I haven't even met our son. I don't know what he looks like. I've never heard his voice. But… I can't even describe it, but I _know_ with every part of me that despite all of that, I'd go to the ends of the earth to protect him. He's all I think about. I feel like I'm going crazy."

Peter laughed, holding her close. "Sweetheart, you're not going crazy. You're just falling in love. It's oxytocin and dopamine and a whole bunch of other hormones biologically hardwiring you to feel this way. A mother's love for her child is one of the strongest and most profound forces on the planet. Nothing's wrong with you."

Olivia nodded. "I mean it, Peter. I'd die for him, I'd kill for him, I'd… I'd do anything to keep him safe. But I can't do anything to save him from this. Walter and Frank are right – it's a congenital defect, we can't stop it or fix it before he's born. But I just… When I found out Walter could be responsible for hurting him… I just felt rage. I've never known a pain like that," she muttered, almost amazed at herself. "Have you ever felt like you could burn the world down?"

"Every day," he admitted. "Every day I'm scared that something will go wrong with either of you, and I'm doing my best to deal with that fear. But I don't know how to deal with Walter. I forgave him for what happened with him taking me, because it saved my life and I understand now how far I'd go to save my own son. But if he's what's hurting my son in the first place…I've got to be honest, I don't know if I could ever get past that."

"But we still don't know what's making the baby sick. Omphaloceles are congenital. They're rare, but anyone can get them. Maybe it's just bad luck."

Peter shook his head. "No. It'd be too coincidental. Maybe it's Cortexiphan, maybe it's us being from opposite universes. I don't know. But we need to find out more, like Dr Stanton said."

"I can't go back in there," Olivia said. "I'm sorry, but I can't even look at Walter right now."

"Then there's only one more place we can go to find answers," he said, taking her hand and walking out of the building.

Peter and Olivia walked into Nina Sharp's office at Massive Dynamic a couple of hours later and explained the situation. "It's certainly a worthwhile theory," Nina said, considering Walter's comments. "You may want to speak to one of our researcher's here at Massive Dynamic. He's been doing major work on William Bell's old Cortexiphan trials, trying to find out more about the drug and its effects."

"That'd be great."

Nina called her secretary to bring the doctor up, and Olivia and Peter were both surprised by who ended up walking into the room.

"Brandon?"

He looked a little shocked himself. "Hey guys."

"You know each other?" Nina asked.

"We went to the Academy together," Olivia explained. "What happened, Brandon? You left the FBI?"

"The money's better here," he admitted with a smirk. "Besides, I like working in a flashy place like this. Big outfit, all kinds of spy stuff… But what's with you guys? You're pregnant Olivia?"

"Yeah. Peter and I are married now, this is our first, so…"

"Wow. Congratulations. I had no idea you guys got hitched."

"Actually, Peter and Olivia are here to talk to you about Cortexiphan possibly harming their baby," Nina said.

"Ah yes, I've gone seen your case in my research, Olivia. You're worried about the abilities being passed on to your baby?"

"That's not really the part that's worrying us most," Peter admitted, taking his wife's hand. "Brandon, our son's not well. He has a small omphalocele and his heart may be underdeveloped. We've got a great team of doctors keeping an eye on him but one of their tests found Cortexiphan in Olivia's blood. They just need to know if it's going to affect the baby's health or which medications can be given to him and Olivia."

"OK, well as for Cortexiphan being passed on to your son, I'd go so far as to say he'll definitely have some trace of Olivia's abilities. Cortexiphan was designed so that over time it would bond to the subject's DNA, so theoretically, it is possible for these abilities to be inherited by children, although to a lesser degree seeing as they're only getting half of this DNA."

Olivia squeezed Peter's hand. He knew what she was thinking. Olivia once told him that she sometimes thinks about what it'd be like to just be normal. She told him that she falls asleep sometimes thinking about what it'd be like if her life hadn't taken the turn that it did. He knew now, sitting in Nina's office, that she felt her son would also live with that sense of strangeness – always feeling out of touch, never knowing what it was like to belong or be like other kids. It broke her heart.

"And his health?" she finally asked, fighting tears. "Do you think he'll have bad reactions to medicines or anything because of Cortexiphan?"

"I can't say I've ever read about Cortexiphan negatively reacting with other drugs. Have you ever experienced anything like that yourself?"

"No, I've never had issues with surgeries or anything."

"Then I'd say that's one less thing you need to worry about."

"Do you think the Cortexiphan would be making him sick?" Peter asked.

"I honestly doubt it," Brandon said. "As your doctor would have told you, congenital defects like omphaloceles can happen to anyone, nothing really causes them. But there may be a reason your son is at an increased risk for developing such conditions."

"What are you thinking? Coz Walter seems to think it may be because we're from two different universes."

Brandon sighed. "I'm afraid he may be right," he said. "You're both healthy, fertile young people, you should have no issues having healthy children. But you're from different universes. We think a lot of the disturbances we're seeing in Fringe events are happening because of what the observers seem to be struggling to preserve – fate and balance. If things aren't the way they should be, then the universe or the observers will either change the fate of the future or...erase the damage."

"What are you saying?" Peter scoffed. "The universe is trying to kill our baby?"

"I'm saying the universe is confused. According to fate, you were supposed to die as a child in both universes. You two were never supposed to meet. This baby isn't meant to exist. Olivia, you could have perfectly healthy children with any other man on the planet except Peter. But because Peter was never supposed to survive or cross over to this side, he cannot have children with any woman from this side."

"So the problem is me," Peter said gravely, gripping his wife's hand.

Brandon nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, but according to this theory, any pregnancies you two have are supposed to end in miscarriage, or you may never get pregnant at all. However, because Cortexiphan has always brought out Olivia's innate strength and give her superhuman abilities, these qualities could be passed on to the baby so it can survive the pregnancy against all odds. Also, like I said, the universe is confused. On the one hand it wants to keep balance and make sure Peter Bishop never has children, but on the other hand it wants course-correct and give the child a purpose in the world. The result is that you can get pregnant, but if the baby survives to term it's a miracle. I'm sorry but from what I can guess, you two just aren't able to have healthy babies. This is all speculation of course, but it's the best answer I have for you right now. I could do some tests, if you -"

"No. Please, no more tests." Olivia sighed. "Thank you for talking to us, but I think we need to go home and think about all this."

"Of course," Nina replied. "Give us a call if you need anything else."

The drive home was tense. Neither of them spoke for a long time. Olivia sometimes tried to initiate conversation, but Peter wouldn't even look at her. He seemed devastated.

"Peter," she finally said. "Peter, please talk to me."

He exhaled, gripping the steering wheel. "I don't know what to say, Olivia."

"Are you mad at me?"

"What? Why would I be mad at you?"

"It's just that you've barely even looked at me since we left, and I'm wondering if you're…blaming me, I guess."

He shook his head, his voice low and breaking. "Livia, I could never blame you. This is my fault."

"What? No it's not," she insisted.

"Yes, _it is_," he said emphatically, keeping his eyes on the road. "According to Brandon and Walter, our baby had an increased risk of developing defects because I'm from the other side. This is all happening because of me. I'm killing him."

"That's it, pull over," Olivia said.

Sighing, Peter did as she asked and turned off the car. He felt her take his hand. "Peter…" She cupped his cheek, turning his face to her, but he still avoided her eyes. "Peter, look at me."

He finally did. There was a coldness in them, an anger. He hated himself, she could tell. "Peter, what's happening to the baby is not happening because of you. This is not your fault, and you are not killing him. Even if the fact that we're from different universes is causing problems, you didn't ask to be brought over here. Walter did that."

"He did it to save me. I'd do it for my son if it'd make a damn difference, but it won't. I can't hate the man for saving my life, but if that action is causing our little boy this much grief, maybe he should have just left me there. You'd be better off with a good guy without a suspect past who can give you healthy kids and a happy life. I can't give you any of that."

"No," Olivia snapped. "Don't you ever say that. You're my husband, and my baby's father, and I love you. When I found out I was pregnant I was scared shitless but I believed that I could do this because you did. You're the only one I want kids with, ever. If Walter hadn't saved you none of this would have happened. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. Our baby exists because he's a miracle – he's surviving despite everything that stands against him. We need to start thinking about it like that, or we'll never forgive ourselves."

Peter rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. "Before we knew he was sick, when we first found out he was a boy, we said if we ever survived this we'd try for a girl someday. I just want you to know that I'm not going to hold you to that. It's OK if we don't have another baby. It'd probably be too dangerous anyway."

"Let's just make it with this one first," she reasoned. "Then we can think about all that. But I think that if we decide having another kid is really what we want, then we can make it happen. And who knows, maybe now that we know the problems, we can get Massive Dynamic or Walter to come up with something that will make the next pregnancy safer. We'll find a way to make it work."

Peter nodded, smiling just a little. "There's always hope, right?" He gave a soft, tender kiss. "Thank you, sweetheart. I really needed to hear all that."

"Good," she said, kissing him again. "You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm OK," he chuckled.

And with that they drove home.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, on the other side of New York, David Robert Jones and his band of scientists were struggling to set up a door to the other side. They stood in the middle of a busy street, a shimmering window before them, like a mirage. Jones tapped furiously at his computer, trying to keep the door open.<p>

"Stabilize, damn it," he muttered in frustration under his breath.

The shimmering curtain started to go out of focus. They were losing it. "The coordinates are separating, sir," one of Jones' men said frantically. "It's not working. We can't hold it open."

The group of scientists kept working desperately on their machines, trying to keep the door there while bystanders looked on in shock. Then the shimmering disappeared altogether.

Taking a painful breath, Jones stoically removed his sunglasses from his bandaged face with a trembling hand, turning to face his men. "This isn't working," he said. He coughed sickeningly, seeming almost weak enough to collapse at any moment. "We'll have to try something else."


	18. Gone

**Chapter 18: Gone**

**References: red door (LSD), "It must be very difficult" (Firefly), **

Olivia and Peter were now only 3 weeks away from the day their son was due to be born. To describe their emotions would be difficult. On top of the excitement and terror of the impending birth, they had to deal with being under a security detail again. For the past month and a half, Jones had been unsuccessfully trying to open doors to the other side, trying different locations and techniques every time. Walter and the others were trying to trace the pattern and find a way to get ahead of Jones. Until then, Peter and Olivia had to be protected – especially Olivia.

Even though Olivia was on maternity leave, Peter was trying to work as much as he could to save up work hours and money before his paternity leave. Broyles had agreed to give them as much time as they needed, seeing as they'd probably be spending weeks in hospital with the baby following his surgery. After a long day, he finally went home to find Olivia covered head to toe in paint with an enormous smile on her face.

"Looks like somebody had fun today," he remarked, smirking.

"I'm finished."

"With the baby's room?" he asked excitedly. He hadn't been allowed to see it yet because he'd foolishly said in the beginning that he wanted it to be a surprise – what a mistake that was.

"Yep. Wanna see?"

"No, I don't want to see the baby's room," he said sarcastically, laughing and going inside with her.

What he saw amazed him. All the furniture they'd bought together was set up and arranged perfectly. The walls were a traditional blue, but on one of the walls, she'd painted a giant mural. It looked almost like a scene out of The Lion King – baby lions playing in the grass, elephants and giraffes down by a watering hole, monkeys swinging from trees… She'd gotten every detail perfect, from the cartoonish, silly grins on the monkeys' faces to the tiny fireflies hanging in the air as the sky became darker towards the top of the wall. It looked so professional, like a children's illustrator had done it instead of his FBI agent wife. Peter's jaw just dropped.

"You did all of this?"

"Yeah," she said kind of breathlessly. "It took me weeks, but it's done."

"It's amazing," he said. "I knew you sketched sometimes but I had no idea you could paint like this."

She shrugged with a smile. "My Dad did this for Rachael and I in our rooms when we were little. And he painted the door of our house red. He said it was good luck." She looked down, rubbing a circle on her now massive belly. "Our little one needs some good luck."

"Don't worry," he said softly, hugging her and kissing her forehead. "With a mom like you, he's very lucky. You put so much effort into this. I'm so proud of you, Olivia."

"I hope he likes it."

"Are you kidding? He'll love this. It's based on the Lion King, right?"

"Yeah. I've never met a kid who doesn't like that movie. How many times has Ella made us watch it when we babysit?"

"About 800," Peter groaned. "It's a really good film, though. The girl has taste. But I don't get why she still cries every single time Mufasa dies."

"You can't blame her for that, it's a sad scene."

"But she's seen it so many times! She knows its coming. I don't understand how every time she watches the movie its like it's the first time again."

"Kids are like that," Olivia said, shrugging. "Besides, you can probably look forward to seeing it another 800 times with your son, I can assure you."

"Looking forward to it," he said sincerely, giving her a kiss and picking a bit of paint from her hair with a laugh. "Come on, Miss Picasso. We should shower and get to the hospital."

They eventually made it to Dr Stanton's office for their next appointment to check up on the baby. "I'm happy to report things are still going fairly well with the baby," he told them. "But I'd like to discuss birthing methods with you again today if that's alright."

"Sure."

"As I've explained to you before, in babies with larger omphaloceles, vaginal birth is virtually impossible so we must resort to a c-section, however your son's is relatively small so we won't need to do that."

"I just want to do what's safest for the baby," Olivia said.

"Well, any surgery carries risk for both of you, so we like to stay away from c-sections if we can. In fact, with small omphaloceles we recommend vaginal birth because the pressure on the baby's body during the birth helps them do better in terms of infection, trauma, shock, and keeps the sac holding the baby's organs from rupturing. There's an extremely low chance of that happening regardless, but vaginal birth does tend to lower the risk further."

"OK. If that's what's best for him then we'll do it."

"Last time I talked to you both you said that you wanted to give birth naturally without drugs. Is that still where you both stand?" he asked.

"I know that's definitely what I want to do," said Olivia.

"What about you, Peter? Is that OK with you?"

Peter chuckled, a little bit thrown by the question. Olivia had always included him in every step of the pregnancy, but he didn't feel this was his choice to make. "Well I think Olivia's opinion overrides mine here. She's the one who has to do it."

"I need to know if you're OK with it, though," Olivia said earnestly. "This is about both of us. I want you to comfortable with whatever happens."

Peter took a breath, rubbing his eyes. "I can't say I'm not concerned about the pain," he admitted. "Obviously I want this to be as easy and pain-free for you as possible. But I know you're tough and you can handle whatever happens. I just want you both to be safe. If this is the way you want to give birth, then I'm right behind you."

"Well that's great," said Frank. "It's important that both of you are comfortable with everything that happens during this process. The birth and the surgery are going to be tough on you both, so you need to be sure to support each other in everything."

"You don't have to worry about that," Peter said, glancing warmly at Olivia.

"Olivia, giving birth without drugs is probably going to be harder than you're anticipating right now," Frank explained. "If you change your mind during the birth we can give you drugs to numb the pain but after a certain point we can't give you certain medications like an epidural. I know you're firm in your decision to give birth naturally, but these are just things you need to know. But we do have ways we can managed the pain without drugs. We can give you extra oxygen, heat therapy, things like that. Also, have you ever thought about doing a water birth?"

"Water birth? Really?" Olivia asked, a little sceptical.

"Well, since you want to do this naturally, your options are basically either a traditional land birth or a water birth. First of all, do either of you know much about water birth?"

"No, not really. To be honest, we hadn't even considered it."

"It's starting to become more and more accepted in the medical community as a safe way to naturally reduce pain and complications. It's not offered at every hospital, but we offer it here. It's been proven to be very effective."

"Hold on, guy in the room here," Peter said. "Exactly what is the process of a water birth?"

"We'd start with a normal birthing process until Olivia gets to between 5 and 8 centimetres dilated. Then we'd place her in a bath the same heat as her body temperature for the rest of the labour so the baby is born into water. Babies don't breath under water because of something called Dive Reflex – they instinctually don't take a breath until they feel air on their faces. The umbilical cord will supply oxygen and he will only be underwater for a few seconds before we bring him out."

"But why should do this over a normal birth? What are the benefits?" Olivia asked.

"Well, you're a first time mother so this will be a stressful pregnancy as it is. The water's been proven to relax the mother, produce positive and energising endorphins, relax the muscles to reduce pain and tearing and regulate blood pressure, among other things. Water birth's also been shown to actively reduce complications for the baby and make the transition into the world less traumatic. Babies come into the world a lot calmer and their vitals tend to be steadier. Because of your son's condition, it's very important that we do everything we can to reduce foetal distress. As long as your membrane hasn't ruptured, water birth will lessen chances of infections in the baby. Your son's external intestines are covered by a thick membrane so the warm water will be further protection against infection and rupture there."

"I don't know...we'll have to do some research into this," Olivia said.

"No problem. You still have a few weeks to decide, and if you happen to change you're mind on the day, we can always work with that. If you get in the bath and decide you don't like it, we can always take you out. There are pros and cons however you do it, so it's entirely your decision. Either way, once the baby's born you will be able to have a few minutes with him before he is taken to be checked out extensively for other conditions. Unless there are any pressing issues, we won't do the surgery straight away seeing as the omphalocele is non-emergent. We'll place a protective bandage over it to prevent infection and he'll be given back to you for a couple of days to adjust to the world before the operation. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

They talked a little more about their birth options before Peter and Olivia had to go pick up Ella to babysit for the rest of the afternoon. Olivia had been babysitting her a lot lately while Peter was at work. Being on maternity leave was painfully boring so she was happy having Ella around. Olivia was 8 months pregnant and too tired to play with Ella so she let her four year old niece paint pictures on her giant belly in face paint while they talked and ate M&Ms.

"Aunt Liv?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"What are you gonna name the baby?"

"We're not sure yet, Ella. We have some ideas though. We want to see him first before we pick one," Olivia explained. "Uncle Peter wants to name him Fernando, though."

Ella grimaced at Peter. "Is that true?"

"Yep," he said. "I like Jiminy-Billy-Bob as well."

Ella looked between the two of them suspiciously. "Are you being silly?"

Olivia laughed. "Yeah, baby girl, we're just being silly. Uncle Peter doesn't really want to name him that."

"Good, coz that would be weird."

"Well what do you think we should name the baby?" Olivia asked.

"I don't know."

"What are some of the names of the boys at your pre-school?"

Ella thought about it as she kept painting butterflies on Olivia's now massive stomach. "Umm... Eli, Lewis, Joey, Andre, Michael, Sam... I like Sam, it's a nice name."

"I think so too, baby girl."

"Hey Ella, can I help you paint?" Peter asked the four year old.

"Yeah."

Peter sat by his wife and picked up a brush to help Ella paint pictures. "I have to warn you, I'm not very good at this."

"That's OK," Olivia laughed.

"Ella what are we painting?"

"I did butterflies and a rainbow and a tree over here. I want to do the sky now."

"So we should paint clouds and a sun and stuff?"

"Yeah."

"I think I can manage that."

Peter got to work and Olivia giggled. "That tickles."

"Does the baby like it?"

"I think so. It's hard to tell. He doesn't kick as much anymore. But the doctors said that was normal, he's just running out of room in there."

"When's he coming out?" Ella asked curiously as she switched colours to paint a cloud.

"Soon, baby girl. Just a couple more weeks."

"Will I get to play with him?"

"You will one day, but not for a long time," Peter explained. "He's very sick so he needs to get better in hospital first and get a bit bigger before you can play."

"But when he's born you'll get to visit all the time and see him," Olivia added.

They talked for a while longer before Peter announced that it was time to take Ella home.

"But I don't want to go home!" she protested.

"Ella, your mommy and daddy told us to bring you back by six thirty. We're going to get in big trouble if we don't. Do you want to get us in trouble?"

"No," the little girl mumbled, shifting on her feet.

"Come on then," Peter said, picking her up and walking over to the kitchen sink. "Look at you! You've got paint everywhere. We better go clean this off so your mommy doesn't get mad at us. Come on Ella, why don't you show me how a princess washes her hands, huh?"

Ella obediently washed all the paint off and was ready to go. "Livia, do you want to stay while I drop her home?" Peter asked.

"Yes please. Sorry, I'm just really tired."

"That's fine. Wash all that off, get some rest and I'll bring some dinner home, OK?"

"OK," she replied sleepily as he kissed her forehead.

"Bye Aunt Liv," Ella said, giving her a hug before giving her belly a quick kiss. "Bye little cousin."

"Bye baby girl. See you soon."

Peter walked Ella to their car and made sure she was buckled up safely. He didn't even notice the two men in fedoras standing across the road, watching him. "Is there any way we can prevent what will happen next?" asked one of them.

"No, August. We're not supposed to get involved."

August nodded silently.

September cocked his head a little, watching Peter drive away. "It must be very difficult," he said.

"What?"

"Being a father."

And with that they both left.

* * *

><p>Peter dropped his niece home and went to pick up some Thai food and popcorn, which was a weird combination Olivia had been obsessed with lately because of her cravings. As he went home and parked the car outside his apartment, he got out and noticed something odd. The undercover cop car that was always outside of their house because of their security detail was strangely quiet. Usually the cops on their detail were always talking and listening to the radio while munching on junk food, but Peter heard nothing like that. He approached the car to see if everything was OK. "Chris? Dave?"<p>

He got to the car and found the glass of the windshield cracked like spider webs around three or four bullet holes, the two men inside motionless and bleeding. Peter choked, dropping the food he bought and sprinting inside their apartment building. He ran so fast he felt like his lungs shredded and his heart pumped acid, but he didn't care.

When he got to their apartment, the door was already open, the lock smashed and the door splintered like it was broken down. "Olivia?" he called, running through and checking every room. "OLIVIA?" Finally he got to their bedroom. The covers on the bed were ruffled, like Olivia had just been lying there. The room was a mess. There had been a struggle. But she was nowhere to be found.

Peter staggered on his feet and put his head in his hands. His wife and his baby were gone.

* * *

><p>"She's waking up," someone said.<p>

Olivia groggily opened her eyes, her vision blurred in the low light. Water dripped somewhere far off. There were pipes above her. The walls were grey. Nurses in black masks. Footsteps. A face appeared over her. Bandages. Blue, bloodshot eyes.

_Jones_.

"Hello, Miss Dunham."

She tried to speak. Swallowed. "I…"

"Shh… Don't talk just yet. You need to rest."

"Where…?" She scrunched her eyes shut as a migraine hit her. Bits of what happened started coming back. She had been in bed. The door broke. Someone grabbed her. She fought. Things went black.

"Some water, please," Jones called. One of the nurses handed him a glass and he helped Olivia lean up to drink.

She swallowed. "My baby…"

"He's fine. We're keeping an eye on him."

"Please," she begged softly. Trying to move, she realised her was handcuffed to the bed. "My baby," she said again. "He's sick."

"We know about his condition. It shouldn't be a problem."

"What do you want? I'll do anything. Just don't hurt my son, _please_."

"Don't you worry, Olivia," Jones said, leaning over her with a sick, toothy grin that gave her chills. "We'll take good care of him. He's going to be staying with us from now on."

"Don't you dare touch him," she spat, what little energy she had being fuelled by anger and fear. "I'll never let you take my son!"

Jones just laughed, clicking one of her handcuffs tighter around her wrist until the metal bit into her skin. She whimpered. He leaned closer. "You don't have a choice, _Olive_," he murmured harshly. "The boy belongs to us now."

He smiled, taking the nurses and leaving her alone in the dark, damp basement. Olivia struggled against her restraints, her wrists becoming raw and bruised. But between the handcuffs and whatever drugs they'd given her, she had no way of escaping.

She looked down. Her shirt was lifted up to expose her belly. They'd drawn a black dotted line across her bare skin.

She started to cry.

**Oh no! **

**Please review, everyone! Didn't get many last chap so please help make up for it this week? Cheers : )**


	19. August

**Chap 19: August**

**References: "I failed" (Jacksonville), "dinner already" (Olivia), pills (Bloodline), "no longer be necessary" (The Plateau), the surgery (Entrada), "the boy is important" (Peter), "there are things that I know…" (Firefly), "I'm not supposed to get involved" (There's More Than One of Everything"), Peter cries (The Day We Died), hospital ending (Entrada)**

"How the fuck did this happen?" Peter shouted. He didn't care that he was in the middle of the Fringe division office completely losing it. "Broyles, you had that security detail on us for practically the whole year. You promised me that she would be safe!"

"We could not have anticipated this, Bishop. Two good cops are dead because they were protecting your wife, so don't you dare say we're not giving enough to look after her."

"But it wasn't enough, was it? She's gone! They could be doing anything to her!"

"Peter, we're doing everything we can to find her," Charlie said, putting a hand on his distraught friend's shoulder. "I understand that you're frustrated, but this isn't helping right now."

"I just finished talking to your neighbours," Lincoln said. "One of them managed to get a partial number plate and a description of the car, so that should help."

Peter exhaled roughly, feeling completely helpless. The only thoughts running through his mind were potential scenarios of what Jones could be doing to Olivia and his son, his imagination slicing at him like the blades of razors. "What can I do to help?" he finally asked, fighting angry tears.

"Bishop, I'm sorry but you can't participate in an investigation where a family member is the victim," Broyles explained.

"Bullshit! What am I supposed to do? Just sit around and hope that you find her?"

"Peter, we've got the whole department trying to figure out where she is," Charlie said. "We're going to get her back. Maybe you should just go home, get some rest and we'll keep you posted."

"Give me a break, Charlie. If it was Sonya and Lucy missing, would you do that?"

Charlie shook his head sincerely. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know what to tell you."

Peter ran a hand down his face. "I'm going to the lab to see what Walter's got on Jones. If we can figure out why he wanted her, we might be able to find out where she is," he said, walking off.

* * *

><p>Olivia had no idea how long she'd been kept in that basement, but it felt like days. One of the nurses would occasionally come in to check on her or give her food, but apart from that, she was all alone. The baby was getting too big to kick as much as he used to, but every now and then he'd just turn over, letting her know he was still OK in there.<p>

She had no idea where they were, so her only hope was that she could somehow escape or the others would find her. But the chances of that happening were slim to none. Olivia touched her belly as much as she could with the handcuffs on. All she wanted to do was be able to hold her baby up and kiss his head and keep him safe with her forever. But she knew that wouldn't happen. It was too late. Jones had won.

She couldn't remember the last time she was this scared. She'd never loved someone this way before, and the thought of losing him seemed worse than death. She wondered if her husband would blame her. Peter would be devastated and furious if Jones did anything to the baby. She was glad Peter and Ella weren't in the apartment when Jones and his men came for her. They probably would have killed them in an instant, just to get to her. It was a horrible thought.

Feeling her baby move inside her, she wept desperately, running her hands over her stomach. "I'm so sorry, beautiful boy," she cried, the guilt crashing down on her in waves. "It was my job to keep you safe and I failed. I failed and I was supposed to be the one who could stop things like this. I'm so, so sorry."

She didn't bother wiping her tears away as she sobbed. "I know your Daddy would be sorry too," she said to him. "Daddy loves you so much, and I'm sure he and Uncle Charlie and Uncle Lincoln are doing everything they can to find us right now. Daddy and I never meant for this to happen. You weren't supposed to be born like this. You were supposed to have all your family with you, in a nice, warm hospital. You were supposed to have surgery so the doctors would make you all better, but I don't know if that's going to happen now. I don't even think I'll ever get to see you. Your Daddy won't ever get to see you either. I never wanted this for you."

She feared what Jones had planned for her baby. Would they hurt him? Experiment on him for their next ZFT weapon? Use him to cross over? That was no life for a child. But she felt powerless to stop it. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed again, feeling her baby move around beneath her hands, giving her a little kick. "Shh…I know it's scary, little one, but I need you to be brave for me. Things are going to be very hard but you need to know that your Daddy and I love you very much. Both of us will do everything possible to stop this from happening to you. I will die before I let them touch you, I promise. But if they do kill me and take you, your Daddy will go to the ends of the earth to find you and bring you home, I know it. I wish you knew how much we loved you. We love you so much…"

Suddenly the door of her room creaked open. Curling up in bed and resting her hands on her belly, she tried to shield her baby as much as she could. "What do you want?" she asked the nurse at the door snidely. "Is it dinner already?"

"Afraid not," she replied, approaching Olivia.

"Stay away from me," Olivia spat, but the nurse ignored her.

She held out two pills in a little medicine cup. "You're gonna want to take these."

"No way."

"We haven't got time for this. Just swallow."

"I said no!"

The nurse exhaled in frustration through her black mask. "Listen lady, they're gonna cut you open in an hour or two, and trust me, you don't want to be awake when it happens. Take the pills."

Olivia shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I won't let you have him."

"I don't want to make this hard for you," the nurse said. "But do you know how long a baby can survive inside a dead mother? Four minutes. That's long enough to cut him out. These people are ruthless; they'll kill you if they have to. It's best for you and the baby if you just cooperate."

Eyeing her cautiously, Olivia finally nodded, letting the nurse give her the pills. Satisfied, the nurse turned on her heel and left, slamming the door shut behind her. Once she was sure she was gone, Olivia spat the pills out, rubbing her hands over her belly. "It's OK, little one. I'm gonna get you out of here."

* * *

><p>Peter drove straight to the lab, needing whatever answers Walter had about what Jones may be up to. As soon as he walked in, he was greeted by one of Astrid's warm hugs. "Peter, I'm so sorry about Olivia. Are you OK?"<p>

"I'm fine."

"What can we do for you, son?" Walter asked.

"I know you guys are working hard on the case, but is there anything you can give me yet? Any idea why Jones might have kidnapped Olivia, or where he'd take her?"

"My guess would be that it has something to do with Cortexiphan," Walter said. "Everything Jones has done to Olivia so far – the light box tests, the bomb – was about her being a Cortexiphan subject."

"But if that was the case he could have taken her months ago. Why now?"

"Maybe he needed more time to heal from his teleportation, or he was building technologies to open doors to the other side…"

"But he couldn't manage it," Astrid added. "He's been trying for over a month to open doors at soft spots all over Massachusetts and New York, but he's never been successful. Maybe that's why he needs Olivia now."

"Unless…"

Peter looked up. "What, Walter?"

"Nothing, son," Walter mumbled, trying to brush it off.

"Walter, we may not have a lot of time to save Olivia, so whatever you're thinking you better spit it out."

Walter sighed. "Perhaps he's not after Olivia at all, son," he said softly.

Peter's eyes went wide. "You think he's after my boy?" Peter put his head in his hands for a moment, cursing under his breath. He hadn't even considered that – Jones had been after Olivia the whole time. But it made sense. After all, he'd kidnapped her just a couple of weeks before her due date. He clenched his fists as he bit back angry tears, taking shallow breaths through gritted teeth as he dreamed up ways to make Jones pay.

"Why would Jones want Peter and Olivia's son?" Astrid asked, shocked. "He's just a little baby, and he's very sick."

"Olivia and the baby both have Cortexiphan in their blood. But more than that, the boy's existence is simply a miracle of nature. He's the only person in history to have parents from opposing universes. That plus the Cortexiphan could theoretically give him immense ability. For someone like Jones, he's a perfect specimen for study."

"Study?" Peter yelled. "He's not experimenting on my kid!"

"I'm afraid that may be his objective, Peter. Which means we haven't got much time to find them. He will probably conduct surgery on Olivia as soon as she's ready."

"No…" Peter muttered, feeling sick. "What'll happen to her once they have him? Do you think they'll experiment on her too?"

"Once they have him," Walter said cautiously. "Then my guess is that she'd no longer be necessary."

Peter's head imploded then and there. All the colour drained from his face. He couldn't make any sound. His hands clenched. His breathing came heavy. "Oh my God…" he finally choked. He was hung somewhere desperate in between fury and despair. He paced, not knowing whether to run or cry or beat the living shit out of something. He imagined how devastated Olivia would be if they lost their son – how terrified his little boy would be as they took him away from his mother. He staggered, running to a nearby rubbish bin where he gagged and emptied the contents of his stomach. Astrid knelt beside him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, not knowing what to say. "It's going to be alright, Peter. We'll find them."

Peter raised his head, angry tears in his eyes. "I'll kill that son of a bitch. I swear to God, if he touches either of them, I'll fucking kill him."

"Peter…" Astrid said, lost for words.

"What do I do?" he asked nobody in particular. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Son, we'll find them. We're all working very hard to make sure we do."

Peter got up, his whole body shaking. "I'm going back to the apartment. Maybe they missed something," Peter muttered, walking out. There wasn't much for him to do, but he had to try something to get his mind off what was being done to his family. If he didn't, the guilt raging in his head would simply eat him alive.

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before they came for her again. She'd fought, screamed, begged for her baby's life. But it was no use. The nurses held her down as she flailed against them. Jones injected her with something. Her brain went fuzzy. She felt herself start to lose control of her body. She felt tired.<p>

"Get her to surgery," she heard Jones say.

The bed she was on started moving. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she fought to stay awake. The fluoro lights and pipes above her began to blur. Footsteps echoed off the walls. It was cold.

They stopped. The walls were white. Someone in a mask leaned over her, their face blurred.

"What's her heart rate?" someone asked.

"Sixty resting."

"Should I up her dosage?"

"No," Jones said. "If her heart rate lowers any more we may lose the child."

A single tear leaked down the side of her face. This was really happening. All she wanted was to fight, but she was barely conscious. She felt someone wipe betadine on her stomach, right around the mark they'd drawn on her. All she could think was, _no, no, no, please don't take him from me, please…_

"She's ready," someone announced.

She scrunched her eyes shut, tears leaking out the edges. _Please, please, no…_

The soft clink of a scalpel being picked up filled the room. Then the door burst open.

"Hey! Get out!"

There was a gunshot. Or something resembling a gunshot. Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw Jones propelled across the room by a beam of blue-ish light until he hit the wall, dropping lifeless to the floor, scalpel still in hand. The nurses went down soon after. Shaking, Olivia forced herself to look up as she felt someone approaching her.

What she saw shocked her. It was the observer. Or rather, someone who looked like him. Were there more observers that they didn't know about?

"Are you alright?" he asked her, his voice a slow monotone.

She nodded, tears in her eyes. Who was this guy?

"Who are you?" he said, as if he was reading her mind like a script. "Are you one of the observers? Are you going to hurt my baby? Please let me go. You don't have to do this."

Stunned, she lay still while he injected her with something. He started undoing her restraints and she felt the drug kick in, waking her up again. "We must hurry," he told her, helping her out of bed.

He legs buckled beneath her and the held on to him. "I… I can't…"

"The drugs will take effect soon enough. I will help you," he said, lifting her up and walking her out of the basement. She started to get her feeling back as he walked her up some stairs into what looked like an abandoned warehouse, then out into the street. It was a freezing night but she didn't care. She was free.

Her vision was much clearer now. She saw Chinese neon signs, and a dragon hanging over the road. It was red. They passed a noodle store. He stopped and set her down on the street, by a payphone. He gave her a couple of dollars. "Call your husband," he said.

"Thank you," she replied emphatically.

"Why did you save me?" he said, reading her mind again. "Is my baby OK? Is he going to die? Who are you?"

Olivia stared in shock, not understanding how he was doing that. "Why _did_ you save me?" she asked out loud.

"The boy is important. He has to live."

"Will he live?" she asked softly, cradling her belly in her hands.

He cocked his head. "There are things that I know," he said. "But there are things that I do not. Various possible futures are happening simultaneously. I can tell you all of them, but I cannot tell you which one of them will come to pass." He lowered his eyes. "I shouldn't be here. I'm not supposed to get involved."

He left without another word. Just vanished. Olivia sat in the phone booth, stunned for a moment, before the realised his money was still in her hand. Pushing herself up with as much effort as she could muster, she reached for the phone.

* * *

><p>Peter had gone through the crime scene a thousand times over. There was nothing about his apartment that he or the FBI techs hadn't already noted, but he kept looking for details gone unnoticed. It may have been getting him nowhere, but at least it was keeping his mind off what Jones could be doing to Olivia and his son. That was all he could ask for at this point.<p>

He sat in the corner of their bedroom, back to the wall. His eyes studied every detail of the ruffled sheets on the bed, the mess on the floor, the signs of the struggle written in little details across the room. Olivia would have fought hard. He knew that. But only a few weeks from giving birth, there was only so much she could have done to save herself. She had needed her husband to keep her safe. And he wasn't there.

Exhaling, he got up in search of something to numb the agony of his guilt. He found himself in the kitchen, digging through the freezer for a bottle of vodka. But before he could even open it, he noticed something.

Ella's picture of their future family still hung on the fridge. It made his heart stop. Peter was physically trembling as he lifted his fingers to graze Olivia's face, trying to keep his emotions down. All he wanted was to scream and cry and smash things, but none of that was going to bring Olivia and his son back.

Something in him broke. He crumbled, clenching his fists and letting his head fall forward and hit the cold steel of the fridge. The tears just came. He wondered if his wife was dead by now. He wondered what they were doing to his only child. He wondered what their family could have been, if he had only been there to protect them. His whole body quivered as tiny sobs shook through his body, burning him from the inside out.

All he wanted was his family back. But it was too late. They were gone and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing.

Then his phone rang, startling him. Hastily wiping his face, he picked up within half a ring. "Hello?"

"Peter, it's me."

"Olivia?" he gasped, a huge smile breaking out on his face. She was alive! "Oh my God, it's so good to hear your voice. Where are you? Are you OK?"

"I'm in Chinatown, I think." Her voice was weak, strained. She sounded tired. "I… I'm in a phone booth on the street. I'm not exactly sure where."

"OK, I'm on my way," he said, grabbing his keys. "I'll call the others to meet us there. Where's Jones? Are you safe? Is the baby OK?"

"I don't know. Peter, please hurry."

"OK, stay right where you are, we're coming to get you. Hang tight, Olivia. It's over. You're OK now…"

* * *

><p>Peter kept speaking reassurances to her as she sat curled up in the phone booth, shivering. It wasn't long before she heard tires screeching and sirens tearing their way through the night air. Charlie and Lincoln stopped their car, running out to her. "Liv! You alright?"<p>

She nodded, crying. "Where's Peter?"

"He's right behind us, don't worry," Lincoln said, wrapping his coat around her trembling body. "The Federal Building's closer so we got here first."

"Come on, Livvy, get up," Charlie said, putting her arm around his shoulders to lift her. Lincoln and Charlie supported her as she walked to the ambulance that had stopped a few feet away, the medics lifting her onto the stretcher in the back.

"Agent Dunham, how far along are you?" one of them asked as they checked her vitals.

"Almost 37 weeks. Please, where's my husband?"

"He's coming, Livvy," Charlie said.

"Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort? Any contractions?"

"No, but they drugged me. I don't know what they gave me, but they were trying to do a c-section."

"OK, we'll get you to the hospital to check on…"

"No! Please, can we just wait for my husband? I need to see him, _please_."

The medics looked to each other in reluctance. "Five minutes," one of them said. "Then we're taking you over."

"Liv, what happened?" Lincoln asked. "Where's Jones?"

"He's dead. They're all dead."

"Where, Livvy?"'

"It was a warehouse. In the basement."

Lincoln shouted to the other cops that had arrives to look for a warehouse nearby. Charlie held Olivia's hand. "Peter's coming, don't worry. You're safe."

The relief and exhaustion of it all almost brought her to tears. "They were gonna cut me open, Charlie," she cried. "They were gonna take him away from me."

Charlie held her close, letting her cry into his chest. He couldn't imagine how terrified she must have been. "It's over now, Livvy. Jones can't hurt you any more. You're gonna be fine."

A few moments later, Peter came sprinting from his car to the ambulance, jumping straight in the back and holding his wife. "Livia! Thank God you're OK."

"Peter…" she cried. The medics packed up the truck and started driving.

"Livia, what happened? Did they hurt you?"

She let out a small sob. "Peter, Jones wanted the baby. They tried to cut him out of me," she told him, lifting her shirt so he could see the marks and the betadine stains on her skin. He looked furious, sickened even. "I tried to fight them. I tried, but they drugged me and I…"

"It's OK. I know you did everything you could. How did you get out?"

"One of the observers saved me."

"What do you mean 'one of them'?"

Olivia wiped her face. "He looked just like the observer we've been seeing in all the security footage whenever a Fringe event happens, except it wasn't the same guy. He killed Jones and the others, then he carried me out here and gave me money to call you. He saved our baby's life."

"And yours," Peter added, trying to process it. Normally he would wonder who these observers were, but right now he didn't care. They'd saved his wife and child – that was enough for him. "Just rest, sweetheart," he said, brushing some hair from her face. "It's over now."

They got to the hospital and checked Olivia and the baby for any problems. Apart from the drugs to incapacitate Olivia, nothing else had been done to them, and there would be no lasting damage. She and the baby had gone through some major stress, which wasn't good, but for the most part, they were fine.

When the doctors were done with their tests, they gave Olivia a room to sleep in so they could monitor her for the night. Peter stayed with her as she rested, holding her hand with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Olivia," he murmured softly to her, his voice dark with guilt. "I should never have left you alone last night, I…"

"Don't apologize," she whispered, exhausted. "You were the only thing that got me through. If it wasn't for you, I would never have made it back."

Standing up, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sleep," he said softly, gently stroking her hair as his other hand settled over her belly. "I'm here now."

She closed her eyes and smiled at the touch, letting herself finally fall into a restful sleep, content in the knowledge that the three of them were back together again.

**Please leave a quick review before you go! **


	20. It's Time

**Chap 20: It's Time**

**References: "Sunrise" (6:02am EST), "Baconberry" (Os), "I got you" (Pilot), **

Peter was woken that morning by his phone ringing. Again. "Hello?" he asked groggily.

"Peter, son, this is Walter Bishop, your father."

"Hi Walter Bishop, my father. What do you want? It's early."

"Has the baby come yet?" he asked excitedly.

Peter fought the urge to facepalm. "No, Walter, not yet. We've been over this. I will tell you when she goes into labour, you don't have to keep calling and asking. Her due date's not even for another week."

"I just wanted to be sure."

"Walter, relax. We won't forget to call you. I'll see you at work, OK?"

"Alright. Goodbye, son," he said, hanging up.

Turning back over to sleep, Peter realised his wife wasn't with him. Getting up, he trudged through the house until he found her in the bathtub, resting with her headphones on.

"Hey, Livia," he said, coming to sit beside her.

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily, taking off the headphones. "Hey."

"Are you OK? Why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," she said, closing her eyes briefly and running her hands over her enormous belly as it poked up through the bubbly water. "He keeps moving around in there."

"In a bad way?"

"I don't think so. I'm not feeling pain or anything and he's not kicking unusually. It's fine. You worry too much." She sighed, leaning back in the tub. "It's nice in here," she murmured.

He laughed, gently flicking some water at her. "Well, it's good you're practicing for this whole water birth thing, at least," he joked. "Are you sure that's still how you want to do it?"

She nodded, smiling softly as his hand covered her belly. "Yeah, I'm sure," she said. "Being on leave, I've had a lot of time to ask women I know about their births and do some reading on it all. The risk of infection's about the same either way, but things like pain and tearing and stuff tend to be lesser in water. My cousin did a water birth a few years ago, and she loved it. The water does a lot for the babies too though. It helps regulate their heartbeat and stuff, and it makes the process less traumatic for them. Dr Stanton said it does a lot in reducing foetal distress and the babies are generally a lot calmer when they come out. That's the big thing for me. I'm happy to put up with the pain and whatever, but I want this to be as easy as possible for the baby. He's had enough to deal with already, you know?"

He smiled, taking her hand. "While that's good of you," he said. "I just want to make sure both of you are going to be safe."

"Don't worry so much," she laughed. "We'll have a whole bunch of nurses and doctors with us, it'll be fine. Plus, you were there when the doctor explained it all. These people know what they're doing. And if you're that worried we can figure it out on the day."

"I'm always going to be worried," he chuckled.

"Why the hell are you worried?" she laughed. "You're not the one who has to freaking do it!"

"I know, I know. I just want you both to be safe, that's all."

She grinned, pulling him close for a kiss. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do know that. I love you too." He rubbed a little circle on her belly. "And I love you as well, little one. Since the moment I found out Mommy was pregnant, I've loved you so much."

Olivia smiled, settling in the water as the early morning light continued to drift in through the window. "You know this is my favourite time of day," she said softly. "Sunrise – when the world's full of promise, you know?"

Smiling he kneeled up and kissed his wife on the forehead. "I've got to get to the lab. Take it easy, OK? Try and get some sleep if you can."

"I will. I'm going over to Rachael's this afternoon, so give me a call when you get off work and I'll come home."

"OK. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"We'll be fine. Go to work!" she said, playfully shooing him away.

He left and she managed to get a few hours of sleep before heading over to her sister's place for the day. The two of them ordered Thai food for lunch and just talked for hours like they used to when they shared the same room as kids. Around 5:30, Greg came home with Ella, who immediately ran over to the couch and gave her mom and aunt a big hug.

"Hi Aunt Liv!" she said happily before quickly kissing her belly. "Hi little cousin!"

"Hey baby girl."

"How's it going Olivia?" Greg asked. "Baby's not giving you too much trouble?"

"No, things have been pretty good. But we're only eight days out from the due date so I really needed Rachael to calm me down about some stuff," she chuckled. It was true though. In the beginning she had felt super empowered about giving birth without drugs and wanting to tough it out, but now that she was getting closer she was slightly terrified. She had no idea what to expect at all, and that worried her.

Ella climbed up on to the couch and smiled up at her aunt. "Do you know what his name's gonna be yet?"

"No, not yet, sweetie. I told you, we want to wait to see him before we pick."

"Hey honey, you want me to cook so you guys can keep chatting?" Greg asked Rachael.

"That'd be great, thanks."

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Olivia?" he asked her.

"If your cooking is any better than Rachael's I'd love to, thanks," she joked, earning a playful slap from her sister. "Peter's working a double shift today, so…"

"He's working a lot lately," Rachael said. "Is he trying to save up for the baby?"

"That's part of it," Olivia explained. "It's more that the more hours he works now, the more paid leave he'll get once the baby's born. Our boss has been great though, he's trying to make sure the FBI gives us lots of leave seeing as we'll probably be in living in the hospital for the next couple of months. Our boss is so scary it's hilarious sometimes. Whenever we've had issues with work benefits covering the baby or anything, he's been straight on the phone yelling at someone about it. He's been really good to us."

"You're lucky," Rachael replied. "My boss was great but Greg's was horrible. He wouldn't give Greg any leave at all except for the few days Ella and I were in the hospital after the c-section. It's good that the boss is getting you lots of leave. You guys are gonna need it."

They kept talking as Greg cooked in the kitchen. Rachael went to get her and Olivia more drinks, leaving her sister with Ella. Suddenly Olivia felt a sharp pressure build in her lower stomach. She winced in pain, a hand rushing to her belly as her other gripped the side of the couch.

"Aunt Liv? You OK?"

She forced herself to nod. It was a normal pain, she told herself. She couldn't be in labour. Not yet. It was too early. No.

Finally the pressure left and she took a breath. What the hell was that? Was that a contraction? If it was, they were only going to get worse in the near future.

"Should I get Mommy?" Ella asked, looking up at her with worried eyes.

Olivia kissed her niece's forehead. "Don't worry about it, baby girl. Just a little tummy ache."

"Oh. OK," she said, going back to her drawing. Rachael came back with some tea and Olivia appreciated the distraction, glad to be able to just brush it off.

When Greg was done cooking they all sat down for dinner, and afterwards Olivia insisted on helping Rachael wash the dishes in the kitchen. "Thanks so much for having me over, Rach," she said as Ella came in as well. The four year old seemed to follow Olivia everywhere when they were together.

"No problem, Olivia. We always love to have you here, you know that."

But Olivia didn't hear her sister's response. Another flash of pain gripped her, tensing tight in her pelvis. It was worse than before, if only slightly. The threat of tears stung her eyes as she gripped the edge of the sink. "Liv? You OK?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, waiting for the pressure to release her.

"Aunt Liv did this before," Ella said to her mother.

"When?"

"Before dinner. When I was drawing."

"Ella, why didn't you tell me or Daddy?" Rachael asked, frustrated.

"Don't be mad at her Rach," Olivia breathed as the pain finally lifted. "I told her not to tell you."

Rachael ran a hand through her hair. "Liv, sit down. Ella, go stay in the living room with your father."

"But -"

"Ella bear, go please." The four year old dropped her head obediently and trudged out, sad to be left out of whatever was happening. Sighing, Rachael sat down at the kitchen table with her sister. "Liv, how often has this been happening?"

"Only just then and before when I was with Ella. I promise, that's it."

"Liv, I think you're in labour. But they're about forty minutes apart so that's OK. It'll be half a day before anything real happens, so we can just take this one step at a time. Let me call Peter and I'll drive you to the hospital."

"No. I can't have the baby yet," Olivia said, suddenly panicking. Tears welled in her eyes. "It's too early. He's sick, I can't. I'm not ready."

"Liv, honey," Rachael said calmly. "I know it's been a rough few months and the baby's sick, but it's not going to help him if you resist the labour. If he wants to come out then he has to come out. Believe me, I've been there, I know how scary birth is, but we are all here for you and Peter will never leave your side for a second. You're not alone in this at all."

"No, Rach. I can't. He's too sick. He's safe in there, I don't want him to come out. No, I…"

"Liv, it's going to be OK. He needs to come out sometime. You and Peter have spent so much time with those doctors preparing for this and making sure he's taken care of once he's born."

"I can't do this. Not now."

"Yes you can, Liv. I know you can. Listen to me. This is going to be a hard day but at the end of it you'll get to meet this beautiful baby boy you've been waiting all this time for. You'll have your son with you and all the pain and effort will be worth it, I promise. I know how much you love that boy, Liv. You'd do anything for him, right?"

"Yeah," she replied tearfully.

"Well, this is what he needs from you right now. He needs you to be strong for him, get through the pain and bring him into the world. I know you can do this, Liv."

Closing her eyes for a moment, Olivia let out a shaky breath as she absorbed her sister's words. Rachael was right. She had to do this - for him. She finally nodded, running a hand over her enormous belly and getting up. "OK. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Completely bored with his work, Peter stared at the clock. It was 6:25pm. Yawning, he got up to join Walter and Astrid baking cupcakes in the lab while waiting for test results. It was ridiculous, but he was so tired and since the Jones case ended work had lost a lot of its momentum. The investigations into ZFT and William Bell continued, of course, but Peter was so relieved that Jones was dead that he didn't care as much anymore. His wife and baby were his major concerns now.<p>

Working in the lab now was more a chance to strengthen his relationship with Walter than anything else. Since they'd found out Cortexiphan wasn't hurting the baby, Olivia and Peter had made a sincere effort to repair the damage with Walter. Peter and Walter had started becoming particularly close again as Peter spent his days in the lab. He was glad things were working so well between them. He wanted his baby to have a good grandfather in his life. Walter would go on excited little rants about helping Peter's son with science fair projects and things like that, which Peter found heart-warming. Thoughts like that only made the two of them strive harder to make things work.

"I should invent a new flavour of frosting," Walter remarked as they ate their cupcakes. "Bacon and raspberry flavour. Mmmm…"

Astrid cringed. "That's kind of sick, Walter."

"I hate to break it to you, but nobody's going to buy that," Peter laughed, munching on his cupcake. "I, for one, am grateful these have normal frosting."

"Don't be so closed-minded, son! If I ever get to own Massive Dynamic, the first thing I'll do is market that frosting as a product. I shall call it Baconberry."

"Yes, that's a completely appropriate way to make the most of the scientific resources of a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, Walter," Peter remarked sarcastically. He turned to Astrid. "By the way, how's it going with Lincoln?"

Astrid smiled coyly. She and Lincoln had been dancing around each other for a month or two and they finally started going out a couple of weeks back. "Good," she said. "He's really sweet."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. But if he ever needs a bashing, just let me or Charlie know, OK?" he joked.

Astrid raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Excuse me? Honey, I did not spend two years at Quantico so I could call a _man_ when I was in trouble. I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Oh, I know you can," Peter laughed. Astrid was a sweetheart but anyone who thought she didn't have attitude would probably fall victim to it. Personally, he loved it. After all, he married a headstrong FBI woman with a gun.

Peter's phone rang and he picked up. "Hello?"

"Peter, it's me," came Olivia's shaky voice on the other end.

"Livia, is everything OK?"

"Yeah, just…" He heard her break her sentence to gasp softly. She sounded like she was in pain. He overheard Rachael telling her to breathe.

Worry immediately flooded him. "Livia? What's going on? Livia?"

She caught her breath. "Fuck…" she breathed. "Peter, they're 20 minutes apart now."

"YOU'RE IN LABOUR?" he exclaimed, both panic and excitement driving his body into action as he packed his stuff up in the lab while Astrid and Walter looked on in shock.

"It's OK, Rachael's driving me to the hospital right now. Can you grab that bag we packed and meet us there?"

"No problem. Do you need anything else?"

"No, just you. Please hurry, Peter."

"Livia, it's gonna be OK. This'll be amazing. I'm on my way. I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, hanging up.

"Olivia's in labour?" Astrid asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Peter replied breathlessly as he gathered all his things.

"That's marvellous, Peter!" Walter exclaimed happily.

"Do you want a ride to the hospital?" Astrid asked.

"No, thanks, I'll be alright."

"OK, but take these with you," Astrid said, handing him the remaining cupcakes in a tin.

"You sure?"

"Trust me, Peter. Women get moody during labour and Olivia can be fierce. These may just safe your life."

Eyeing the cupcakes, he decided to follow Astrid's always noteworthy advice, taking the cupcakes. She gave him a hug. "Let us know how it goes. We'll come by to see you when he's born."

Walter gave him a hug also, tears in his eyes. "Good luck, son."

"Thanks, Dad," he whispered, hugging Walter tightly before heading off to the hospital.

* * *

><p>Peter rushed to the hospital, practically sprinting to the birthing room Olivia was staying in to find her in bed with her sister beside her. They were talking softly, Olivia wearing a nervous smile as her sister gave her all the advice she needed. He felt like it was a moment he shouldn't have been intruding on – like it was secret women's business or an intimate family conversation he shouldn't be witnessing. But when Olivia looked up and saw him, she smiled. "You came."<p>

He laughed. "Of course I did," he said, jogging over and giving her a kiss. "You OK?"

She nodded. "Rachael's been giving me all the pep-talks to I think I'm good to go."

"Thanks, Rach," he said.

"No problem. Although you look like you could use a pep-talk yourself," she laughed, seeing the terror mixed with the excitement in his face.

"Nah, I'm alright," he chuckled nervously, brushing it off. "It's Livia we need to worry about."

"I'm OK," Olivia reminded him, making him smile.

"Ready to take it from here, big guy?" Rachael asked him as she got up.

"Yeah. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime. If you guys need anything at all, just call us, OK?" Grinning proudly, she kissed Olivia on the cheek. "You'll do great, Liv. I know it sounds insane but try and enjoy this, OK?"

Olivia laughed. "We'll see."

"I love you."

"Love you too, Rach. Thank you so much," Olivia said, giving her sister a hug. Having Rachael with her had really helped. Seeing her sister so excited helped relieve her anxiety and gave her more confidence, reminding her of the light at the end of the tunnel. "Bring Ella by in the morning so she can meet her cousin, OK?"

"Absolutely." Rachael then hugged Peter. "Take good care of my sister."

"Always, Rach."

Rachael left and Peter sat on the edge of Olivia's bed, kissing her forehead. She was shaking slightly. "You OK, sweetheart?"

She nodded, forcing a nervous smile. "Yeah. I'm excited but I'm terrified too, you know?"

"Yeah, it's gonna be a tough night. But we'll have a son at the end of it."

Olivia shook her head in disbelief, fear in her eyes. "This has all gone so fast. Do you think we're ready?"

"No," he admitted, his voice shaky. "But we're as ready as we can be, Livia. We're probably more prepared than most people. I mean, we've got a whole team of specialists watching over you two. We'll be just fine."

"Yeah, I know, it's just…" she trailed off. Her eyes went wide, suddenly. "Oh God," she breathed, clutching his hand quickly as the pain of another contraction took over.

"Livia?" Peter finally realised what was happening as she groaned in pain against him. He held her close, supporting her as the painful pressure persisted. "I got you," he told her. "I got you."

She whimpered softly in response, clinging to him briefly until the pain passed. Catching her breath, she rested against his warm body for a moment, burying her face against his shoulder. She felt his hand on the back of her head as he held her close in comfort. "That was good, Livia. That was really good."

When she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. Seeing the worry written across his face, she smiled softly. "I'm OK," she assured him. Sighing, she leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

"Can I do anything for you, Olivia?"

"No, I'm alright. The doctors checked me out before you got here. They'll be coming and seeing us every now and then."

"OK." He pulled out the tin of cupcakes from his bag. "Astrid and Walter sent these."

Olivia smiled, taking one. "Thanks," she said, the sugar relieving her as she ate. She was so tired already and this thing had barely started.

Peter looked around the birthing room, noticing for the first time how big it really was. There were tables and some cabinets full of medical equipment, beanbags and exercise balls for more comfortable labouring, and in the corner was the tub Olivia would be giving birth in. "So this is where it all happens, huh?" he said. "Are you still sure you want to do it this way? I just want to be sure you're safe and comfortable, that's all."

"I'm sure," she said, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. She noticed then that he was shaking a little too. This shocked her somewhat. Peter had the steadiest hands she knew.

Leaning back in bed with her, he pulled her into his arms. "I can't believe we're already here. We're getting a baby today."

The thought was just as terrifying as it was amazing. Fighting her nerves, all Olivia could do was nod.

It was going to be a long night.

**Please, please review! Baby Bishop's on his way!**


	21. Beautiful Boy

**Chapter 21: Beautiful Boy**

**References: "You don't fail… You ready?" (The Last Sam Weiss), "I love you" (Last Same Weiss), lines from Bloodline, blue eyes (Same Old Story) **

Neither Peter nor Olivia really knew what to expect about the process of giving birth. In the end, they discovered it was kind of like what people say about war: long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.

Seriously. The "miracle of birth" is hours long and boring as hell - at least until the end. But they never show you that in the movies.

Peter stayed up and talked with Olivia all night, and she managed to grab a bit of restless sleep while her contractions were still far apart. Doctors kept coming and going, checking that Olivia and the baby were doing well and explaining various aspects of the childbirth process to the nervous couple. Both of them felt comforted though – the staff at the hospital were so gentle and patient with all their questions and needs.

The contractions started coming closer and harder. Without medication to help, Peter was worried about the pain she was in. A nurse had given Olivia oxygen and heat pads to help her, but she was still suffering terribly. She'd already thrown up twice. Peter would try to comfort her but as her pain worsened he just ended up irritating her. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched on, not knowing how to help. In a way, Olivia didn't want to be helped. Every time Peter offered for her to squeeze his hand or for him to arrange for some pain meds, she felt like he was questioning her ability to do this. As the independent, strong-willed woman she was, this was insulting to her, even though she knew her husband meant well. She didn't want to snap at him but the pain was just too much for her to bear sometimes, she couldn't help it.

At about 5am, their midwife came to check on Olivia and the baby, confirming that she was dilated enough to get in the birthing pool if she felt ready. Olivia went to the bathroom first. As she washed her face with some cold water, she looked in the mirror and tried to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do. It had been twelve hours of agony already, she'd barely slept and she was scared to death, but more than anything, she was determined. She willed herself to overcome the task ahead of her. She just wanted him out so they pain would end. She wanted him safe and sound, too, and only she could make that happen.

She could do this, she told her self. She _needed_ to be able to do this. For him.

Going back out, she saw the nurses, the midwife and the doctor preparing the bath and checking the temperature of the water was right. She sat on one of the beanbags and waited, anxious. Peter came and knelt before her, just in time to hold her through yet another contraction that made her stiffen and groan in his hands. As the pressure lifted she began to relax, catching her breath as Peter rubbed soothing circles on her back. "You OK?"

She looked up to him nervously. "Sorry I've been yelling at you," she said.

He chuckled. "It's OK. I'd been warned to expect it. I can't even imagine the pain you're in, so I can't blame you, really." Smiling softly, he tucked some sweaty hair behind her ear. "You ready?"

Forcing a faint smile, she shook her head. "No. You?"

"No."

Olivia took his hand. "I'm scared," she confessed.

"I know. But you know as well as I do that you don't fail. You can do this."

"Peter," she said softly, looking up at him with a hint of fear still present in her eyes. "I love you."

Smiling, he leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss. He didn't need to say it back. They'd never needed words anyway, not really.

She whimpered as another contraction approached, letting Peter hold her through it, whispering comforting words to her until it passed. When it was over, they looked to each other with worried eyes. "That was quick," Peter breathed. Looking up to a nurse, he asked, "Are they meant to be that close?"

'Yep, that's OK. We're just getting closer to the stage where we need to be pushing."

"The pool's ready if you want to come in," another nurse announced.

Peter pulled Olivia up, helping take off her hospital gown so she was just left in a singlet and helping her step inside. She lay back in the warm water, sighing and closing her eyes. The water took away so much of her stress, it felt amazing after all the pain she'd been through already. "That feels so much better," she murmured under her breath. She moved around a bit, trying to find the most comfortable position to be in. After a while, she settled, leaning against the edge of the tub facing out, taking Peter's hand as a nurse checked the baby's heart rate for the millionth time. Contractions came and went, and she found that while the pain progressively worsened, she felt calmer about the whole process now she was in water.

Another contraction hit, making her cry out as Peter knelt by the side of the tub and held her. "Just squeeze my hand," he said. "As hard as you need to."

"60 seconds apart," a nurse remarked.

The pressure built and built, pushing down inside her. It was excruciating, and every time she thought it would stop, it just kept getting worse. She tried to remember to breathe as she fought the urge to scream.

When the pain finally released, Olivia looked up at the midwife, wide-eyed. "That was different," she said, panic evidence in her voice. "I felt pressure going down. I felt like pushing."

"That's really good. This baby's on its way. On the next contraction I want you to push, Olivia, OK?"

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. Even though they'd been at this for half a day, she felt like it was all happening too fast now. Looking to Peter, her eyes were bleary. "Promise me you'll stay until this is over."

"There's no place else for me to be," he said sincerely, although chuckling at the same time. Did she really think he would get up and walk away at a time like this?

"Dad, you can get in with her if you want," a nurse told Peter.

"Do you want me to, Livia?"

She nodded, blinking her tears away. "Please."

He quickly stripped down to his boxers and hopped in behind his wife. She leaned back into him, grabbing his hands as his arms wrapped around her body.

"Don't let go of me, OK?" she whispered.

"I won't. I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, kissing her shoulder. "Listen to me. You don't think about an hour from now, you don't think about a minute. We're gonna focus on this moment, OK? It's you and me."

Before she could respond, she felt another contraction approaching. She gripped Peter's hands and muttered a quick "Oh God", preparing to push for the first time. Peter watched on helplessly. Her eyes snapped open. Then her mouth fell open. Her cries stuck in her throat, she held like this, shaking, sweat dripping from her skin, her fingers crushing his. The pain was sudden and astonishing. Blinding. Then it was gone.

Collapsing back onto him, she trembled and panted, encouraged by the supportive words of the people around her, even though she barely heard them. Another contraction came. Then another. Peter would always admire his wife for how many of them she pushed through before she screamed.

She pushed for over half an hour before they got really close. It burned to push, but in a way it also felt productive. Olivia could feel the baby moving lower inside her, his head descending. Through her agony she tried to remind herself that every push was another step closer to meeting her baby, but the pain often made her want to give up. She collapsed against her husband as another contraction wore off, shaking and crying. "Peter…" she whimpered.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You're doing so well." He cradled her in his arms, wiping some sweaty hair from her face. "I know it's bad, Livia. I'm sorry it hurts but you're doing a great job…"

"You should be sorry!" she snapped suddenly. "You did this to me! I'm never letting you touch me again, Peter Bishop! You are moving to the couch and that is it!"

He fought the urge to laugh at her, but another contraction struck and Olivia cried out, clinging to him for support.

"I can see the head!" the doctor finally announced.

Olivia pushed harder, the pain excruciating. There was a small amount of blood in the water by now, and Olivia was pretty sure she was tearing, the pain sharp and searing. She choked out a sob.

"Livia? You OK?"

She nodded stoically through her tears, trying to catch her breath.

The midwife tried to encourage her. "I know the pain is awful, Olivia, but I need you to refocus and concentrate on getting through the next contraction, OK?"

"It fucking hurts," she whimpered. "Oh God, get him out!"

"It won't be long now, honey," the midwife said sympathetically. "You're doing so well. Your baby's coming to meet you, Olivia. He's on his way."

"You can do it, sweetheart," Peter said, swallowing. His face was white. Even after all the crime scenes they saw at work, some things still got Peter really squeamish. The thought of his wife's flesh tearing in childbirth was definitely one of them. He couldn't imagine the pain she must have been in. Fighting nausea, he held on to her through the next contraction, trying to encourage her as she let out a scream.

She gave it everything she had. By this point, she was past caring how much it hurt. She just wanted that damn baby out of her! A few contractions later, the head slipped out. Olivia looked down in shock, gasping for air. "Oh my God," she breathed. Reaching down, she felt her baby's head, gasping at the contact. He was real now, not just an abstract concept. Laughing through her pain, she adored the way his scalp felt – warm and fuzzy, like a wet peach.

Peter leaned over and took a look, his face turning even whiter. The baby was bigger than he thought it would be. "That looks painful," he muttered, seeing his son's head surrounded by wisps of red in the water.

"You've got no idea," Olivia panted.

But then he felt joy start to warm his heart. That was his boy. He was almost here. "Oh my God," was all he could say.

"You're so close now, Olivia," the midwife encouraged her. "One more big push and you'll have your son."

Olivia had never felt so empowered in her life. Just one more. One more and her baby would be safe in her arms. She'd go to the ends of the earth for him. One more push suddenly seemed like an easy feat.

What happened next was a blur. With all her might she pushed, bled, agonised, screamed, and then nothing. Something left her. Collapsing against Peter, she felt him smooth some sweaty hair out of her face, comforting her. "It's over," he whispered. "You did it." She barely had the energy to open her eyes, but when she heard Peter's gasp from behind her, she finally did. The midwife caught the baby, gently lifting him out of the water and into the arms of the waiting doctor who hurriedly checked on him.

"Time of birth, 6:02am," someone said.

Olivia started to cry. Seeing her son, all her pain disappeared. "That's him," she said to herself in disbelief. "Oh my God, that's him."

"He's tiny," Peter said.

Olivia scoffed. "He didn't feel tiny."

She leaned back against her husband, trembling out of exhaustion. She could feel him laughing and crying from behind her but she didn't look back. She could only see her son. They were both captivated by him, staring wordlessly as he was being checked out. He was so calm. The nurse actually had to make him cry, he was that calm. He whimpered a little, giving his parents the first sound of his voice, before finally belting out a full-wattage cry that pleased the doctors. He was bright pink, still covered in bits of gunk and blood that didn't wash off in the water. He was bald, his face scrunched up as he screamed and fussed. Over his belly was the omphalocele, the membrane of his external organs which lay on his stomach like a little balloon. But despite this, his parents found him perfect in every way.

"He's beautiful," Olivia gasped.

Peter only nodded and cried in response. He couldn't describe the emotions surging through his body right now. All he knew was no amount of sky-diving could ever top the adrenaline he felt. It was just like Charlie had told them. All he felt was all-consuming, joyous, fierce and painful love for this child. And fear. He definitely felt fear. The rest of the universe seemed utterly insignificant in comparison to their baby now. It was his responsibility to make sure nobody ever touched a hair on that boy's head. He would die for his son. He knew it now more than ever. With his whole heart, he knew it.

"Doc, is he OK?" Peter asked.

"From what we can tell so far he looked really good," the doctor said. "He's alert, has a good strong cry, his colour's great, he's having no trouble breathing, his omphalocele's intact and still small, he has good muscle tone… He's done really well. We'll take him for tests in a few minutes but there's no emergency for now," she said, finally handing the baby to Olivia.

They both sobbed and laughed as Olivia held him, Peter still holding her from behind and laying a hand on his son's little head.

"Oh my God," Olivia cried, stunned by the feel of his warm little body wriggling against her chest. "I love you so much, beautiful boy. I'm so happy to meet you."

Peter let out a soft sob from behind her, stroking their son's head and grinning through his tears. "He's perfect," he laughed. "Livia, we have a son!"

The baby began to settle, his cries quieting into occasional whimpers as he nestled against his mother's skin. On closer inspection they noticed he wasn't quite bald but had a slight dusting of light hair, like Olivia's almost. His skin was all wrinkly and soft. They were mesmerised by the way he moved, mostly trying to get as close as possible to Olivia, but every now and then he's cry and fuss, balling his fists and scrunching his little face as cried, still getting used to the world. Peter laughed. "Life's rough out here, huh, buddy? Not as warm and cosy as where you've been living lately. Mommy must have made a really nice home for you."

The baby let out another small cry, causing Olivia to kiss his forehead. "Shh, I know, little one. That was hard work but you were worth all of it. It's OK, we're right here…"

Grinning, Peter looked at how good his wife was with his child, kissing her hair. "You handled that like a champ, Livia. I'm so proud of you."

"Giving birth was the easy part," Olivia chuckled nervously. "Now comes parenting."

"Can't wait," Peter said, grinning.

"Neither can I." She kissed him softly, their baby in her arms. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, kissing her again. Then he kissed his little boy. The love Peter felt in that moment was unprecedented, and he was sure he'd never feel anything like it ever again.

"Congratulations, you two," the midwife said, looking on the couple proudly. "Dad, would you like to cut the cord?"

"Sure," Peter said. The doctors clamped the umbilical cord, showing him where to cut. The flesh was tougher than he thought it would be, but one little snip later, his baby was free.

"I feel something," Olivia said worriedly after a few minutes.

"That's probably the placenta detaching. That may take a while."

"No, it feels like its coming soon."

"OK, we'll get you out of the water for that."

Olivia looked down at the child so calm and quiet against her chest, not wanting to let go of him. Then she realised Peter hadn't even gotten to hold him yet. "Peter, you should hold him, before they take him away," she said, handing the baby to him.

Peter had never felt more nervous in his life. The baby was passed to him all wriggling and wet, and he was terrified of dropping him or doing something wrong. But he didn't. The baby cried at being separated from his mother, but quickly became calm at the sound of his father's voice telling him it was OK. Looking down on him, Peter felt so much pride he thought his heart would burst. "Hey, little one. I'm your Daddy," he said softly as Olivia got out of the pool, being helped by the doctors to do what she needed to do. Peter wasn't really paying attention. He only had eyes for his son. "It feels really good to meet you, little one. We've been waiting for you for a long time, getting things ready for you. You've got a nice big room at home with lots of toys, and your Mommy painted pictures on the walls for you…" As his son nestled against him, Peter marvelled at his body, how small everything was. "You're really teeny tiny, you know that?" he laughed. "Look at these feet of yours, they're so little! I can't tell who you look like yet seeing as you don't have much hair. But you're super cute, and while we Bishop boys are fine, strapping young men, I think you got all that from your Mom. You're beautiful, just like her. I love you so much…"

He sat in the warm water with his son cuddled to his chest for hours it seemed, whispering to him. Olivia knelt by the side of the tub, wrapped in a robe. "How is he?" she asked, wearing the proudest smile on her face. Nothing made her heart race more than watching Peter being a father to her child.

"He's perfect," he said. The baby scrunched up his face a little, squinting and blinking for the first time. Peter saw his son look up at him and started crying all over again. "Livia, look, he's opening his eyes."

Olivia leaned over and grinned joyously. "Oh wow. I think they're yours."

"92% of Caucasian newborns have blue eyes," Peter said. "Wait a while, the colour might change."

Olivia chuckled at the way facts just rolled off his tongue like that. She hoped her son would be as brainy as his Daddy. "He's beautiful," Olivia said for the hundredth time.

"I know. Can you believe we made him?"

"Not at all," she laughed.

It wasn't long before the nurse regretfully approached them. "I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to take the little one to get his tests done," she said.

Olivia and Peter looked at each other. They didn't want to let him go, but they knew they had to. They kissed him. "See you soon, beautiful boy," Olivia said. "Be good for the doctors, OK?"

"We love you," Peter said, reluctantly handing him over and getting out of the tub to dry off.

Olivia felt like crying again. "Please be careful with him," she pleaded to the nurse. "He's really small, and he's sick, and…"

"Don't worry, Mrs Dunham, we'll take good care of him," the nurse assured her, carrying him over to a table in the room to be weighed and measured. He was a big baby, a good nine pounds. No wonder it hurt so much, Olivia thought.

"Do we have a name for him?" another nurse asked with a clipboard in hand.

"No, not yet."

"That's OK. Take your time. For now we'll just put him down as Baby Boy Bishop."

"No," Peter said. "Baby Boy Dunham-Bishop."

Olivia looked up at him, surprised. The past few months they'd been fighting about names, and Peter had finally given in. "Peter, are you sure? You really wanted him to have your name."

"No, Livia. He's part of both of us. He deserves both our names. Especially yours. You totally kicked ass giving birth to him, you deserve a mention."

"Thank you," she said softly, kissing him.

He broke from the kiss, laughing. "What happened to you never letting me touch you again?"

"I changed my mind," she said with a cheeky smile.

Their baby was taken for his tests, and the doctors checked Olivia to make sure everything was OK before stitching up the small tears she had. With a big baby she was surprised she didn't have worse damage, but the water had really helped. The doctor had told them that they shouldn't have sex for about six to eight weeks to let Olivia heal, and that was fine by them. They had bigger things to worry about right now.

By 7am, Olivia had been moved into a smaller room upstairs and was finally allowed to rest. With the pain and nausea finally over, Olivia realised she was starving and Peter brought a pizza and a huge slurpee into their room, which Olivia scoffed down by herself in like five minutes. As she ate, Peter texted all their friends to let them know their little boy was born safe and sound and Olivia was doing well.

Peter lay beside Olivia, brushing damp hair out of her face and holding her lovingly. "I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

"That was hard," she whispered sleepily. "I'm so tired, but I want to stay awake until the baby comes back."

"No, Livia. You need to rest. The doctors are looking after him. It's OK."

She wanted to protest but frankly didn't have the energy to even speak. Settling in bed, the last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the early morning light drifting in through the window. Olivia remembered suddenly that she had told her husband the day before that sunrise was her favourite time of day – when the world was full of promise. Their son was born at dawn. She loved the thought of that.

**Note: I know that realistically it would be risky for a baby with a serious illness to have a water birth, but I really wanted to write one simply because it's rarely written about. From what I've heard it's a really relaxed, pain-reducing way to give birth naturally and the babies are so calm when they come out. It can reduce the chance of a lot of complications for the baby and the mother as well. Alternative medicine isn't for everyone, but it's worth considering as an option, I find. **

**Ps. the beautiful professional video that inspired me to write the water birth is in the link below. I really encourage you to watch it, it's not graphic at all but very artistic and emotional, I almost cried the first time I saw it, lol: **

**www. youtube. com/watch? v=JDexz 5ObYzQ**

**Oh, and don't forget to review! : )**


	22. Captivated

**Chap 22: Captivated**

**References: "I can't believe…" (Bloodline), Peter's green eyes (Same Old Story), **

**The baby's name was chosen by popular demand, so don't complain! **

When Olivia first woke up in the morning, she forgot that anything was different. But reality quickly set in. The room she was in was not her bedroom. There was pain between her legs and, more importantly, an unfamiliar absence in her belly. The events of the last 24 hours came rushing back to her – the pain, the crying, but more than that, the feeling of seeing and holding her son. Certain little details stuck with her – like his smell, or the way he looked so at peace in her husband's arms, or the moment when he opened his eyes for the first time.

Blinking and rubbing her eyes, she looked around and found Peter lying next to her, barely awake. "Hey," she said.

"Hey, beautiful. How'd you sleep?"

"OK. I feel better. What time is it?"

"Almost 11am. So we got a good 4 hours in there."

"Awesome," she groaned. "Where's the baby?"

"Still with the doctors."

"Do you think we could see him?"

Peter shrugged. "We can ask. Get some more sleep, I'll be back soon." Peter went out and asked a nurse to check where the baby was and returned to find Olivia sitting up in bed. "What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep," she said. "I need to know he's OK. What did they say?"

"Dr Stanton's bringing him down soon," he replied. "I've been getting calls all morning from friends. Do you want them to come in today or do you want to get some more rest? Visiting hours stop at 6pm, so we have some time."

"It's OK. I want them to come and meet him. I can rest later."

"Want me to get some coffee then?"

Olivia smiled, sighing. "You would be my favourite person ever if you did that."

"I thought I was always you favourite person ever," he teased.

"You are," she said. "You just tie for first with the baby now."

"Fair enough," he said. "Want anything else?"

"I'm still really hungry after last night. Some food would be awesome."

Peter left and brought back coffee and some bagels from the café downstairs. Olivia took her first sip, grinning. "Oh coffee, how I've missed you…"

Peter chuckled before getting on to more serious business. "I hope he's alright," he said soberly. "We haven't even named him yet."

"The baby?"

"Yeah. We had our top four and said we'd choose once we saw him. We already know his middle name. Any preferences?"

"I know which one I'd pick," she said. "But it's a tough choice. I worry that I'll change my mind in a couple of days or something."

"In the end it doesn't really matter what we name him," Peter reasoned. "The name will grow to suit him as he grows up, not the other way around. We just have to pick something and he'll wear it well."

"When you first saw him, did any of the four we picked stand out to you?"

"Yeah," he said. He told her which name it was.

She started laughing. "That was my pick, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So that's it then. We finally have a name."

Just then, Dr Stanton knocked on the door, wheeling their son inside. It made their hearts swell to see him again, all cleaned up and rested, wearing a blue beanie and wrapped tightly in a blanket. There was nothing out of the ordinary except for two wires going under his shirt which connected to heart rate sensors on his chest. He was totally calm as always, eyes closed and gently sucking on his fingers. He was perfect.

"Hey Mom and Dad," Dr Stanton said cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. But amazing too. Is he OK?"

"Your baby's doing very well considering the circumstances," he started.

"What does that mean exactly?" Peter asked worriedly.

"Your son -"

"Liam," Olivia said. "We've decided to name him Liam."

Frank smiled softly. "Baby Liam's doing well for a newborn with an omphalocele. He's breathing well on his own – his lungs are very well developed which is a great sign. His reflexes, muscles and all that are perfect. He's strong. We've place a protective bandage over his stomach to protect his omphalocele from rupture and infection, but he needs surgery to repair it. We've scheduled it for tomorrow morning."

"That soon?"

"I'm afraid the longer we wait, the greater the chance of infection. It's very important that we do this soon. Also, as I told you before his birth, we were worried about his heart. We've done some tests and one of the chambers of his heart is underdeveloped."

"You can fix that, though, right?" Olivia asked, afraid for her son.

"Yes, though it will require another surgery."

"Another surgery?" Olivia whispered, tears in her eyes. "Oh my God…"

Peter took her hand and squeezed. "Are you sure?" he asked the doctor.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Frank said sympathetically. "But we have some time. What this condition basically means is that his heart works fine for now while he's just a newborn and he's sleeping most of the day. But soon he'll become very active and grow very quickly. This underdeveloped chamber of his heart won't be able to keep up by that point, and then we're facing serious problems. So we've got these wires on him to monitor his heart's activity, but it should support him well for now. Doing two surgeries at once would be very traumatic for him, so the plan is to do his omphalocele surgery tomorrow, wait a few weeks for him to heal and get his strength back, then do the heart surgery. We'll just take it one step at a time, and barring any complications you should be able to take him home in six to eight weeks."

"But for now he's OK?" Peter confirmed.

"For now he's doing very well, yes. We'll be monitoring him closely until his surgery just to be safe, but you can just enjoy showing him off today."

"Can we hold him, with the wires and everything?" Olivia asked, gesturing to the sensors on his chest which connected up to a heart rate monitor above his plastic tray bed.

"Of course. They're pretty long, just don't tug on them or anything. A nurse is going to come and teach you how to feed him now, but if you need anything else just get someone to page me."

"Thank you," they said as he left.

Olivia immediately picked up her son and held him lovingly to her chest, smiling as he rubbed his own face gently, his eyes closed. "Good morning, Liam," she said softly. "You get to meet your family today."

"It's a shame we only get a day with him," Peter said, sitting by her in bed, his finger brushing Liam's cheek.

"I know. I wish we had more time, but this is for his own good."

Peter called their friends and family to tell them to come over as a nurse came in and greeted them. She brought along paperwork so they could officially name him. _Liam Charles Dunham-Bishop, male, born at 6:02 am on the 29__th__ of January 2007, parents Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham_. Signing their names as his parents was another wow moment. It felt so odd to put it on paper, like it was yet another thing reminding them this was not all some strange dream, but something very real.

The nurse talked to the new parents about feeding times and things like that, and taught Olivia how to breastfeed him. It was harder than Olivia expected it to be, but once little Liam latched on he just fed and fed. He was very hungry, it seemed. Peter felt kind of awkward during this process. He wasn't sure whether he should be watching or averting his eyes, which made Olivia laugh at him. "Peter, it's OK. It's not like you've never seen me topless before. How do you think we got this kid?"

"I know, I just wasn't sure if it was, you know, appropriate for me to watch. I didn't want to embarrass you."

"Peter this is perfectly normal. Don't worry so much. I'll be doing this a hundred times a day anyway, you'll have to get used to it."

He kissed her forehead. "You're good at this, you know that? You're a natural mom."

That made her laugh. "Now that is something I never thought I'd hear someone say about me. But I always knew you'd be a natural dad. Remember I told you that, when Ella was born?"

"Yeah, I remember." He gestured to Liam as he fed. "Does that feel weird?"

"Very weird," she chuckled. "But good too. It makes me feel close to him," she said, brushing her thumb across her son's cheek.

Peter sat beside her, asking the nurse more details about taking care of the baby. They had no idea what they were doing, so maybe living in the hospital for the next few weeks with these nurses would help prepare them. The nurse explained that they would teach them how to do everything themselves so they were the ones taking care of him even though they lived in the hospital.

When they were all done feeding him, they prepared themselves for a long day ahead. The first people to come were Rachael and Ella. "Hey!" Rachael exclaimed as she walked in with her daughter.

"Hi Rach," Olivia yawned, still sleepy.

"Thanks so much for coming today," Peter said. "It's just that his surgery is tomorrow so we have to squeeze everyone in now."

"It's great to be here," she said, kissing Olivia's cheek and then hugging Peter. Rachael looked down on the baby in Olivia's arms and smiled. "Congratulations, you two, he's so beautiful."

Ella tugged on her mother's skirt. "Mommy, I can't see, can you lift me up?"

"Sure, honey," she said, lifting her onto the bed to sit beside Olivia.

"Hi baby girl," Olivia said, kissing her niece's forehead. "This is your little cousin Liam."

"Great name choice," Rachael said, smiling proudly as her daughter tried to absorb it all, staring at her baby cousin.

"He's little," said Ella, mesmerised.

"You can hold him if you want, baby girl."

"Really?"

"Sure. Just put your arms out like this and I'll sit him on your lap. Make sure you hold up his head. But don't tug on these wires or press on his tummy, OK?"

Ella gasped softly as the baby was placed in her arms. "He's heavy," she giggled, feeling him squirm slightly on her lap. "Hi Liam. I'm Ella, you're big cousin. Mommy says you're very sick but I hope you get better soon so we can play at my house..." Ella kept speaking to the baby while the adults talked to each other.

"I'm so happy for you both," Rachael said, beaming. "He's a handsome little guy, huh?"

"Who do you think he looks like?" Olivia asked.

"I dunno. He's got your colouring, Liv, but some of those facial features are definitely Peter's," she said. "I'm sorry Greg couldn't make it, he had to work."

"It's fine," Peter said. "We're just glad you guys could see him before his surgery."

"How was the birth? Did everything go OK?"

"Yeah, things went pretty smoothly. Just really painful."

"I bet. You've got a good sized kid there."

"Nine pounds. I'm so glad I did it in water, it really helped with the stress and tearing and stuff. I only had to get a couple of stitches after, I was pretty lucky. He was worth all the pain, though," she said, smiling at her son as Ella talked to him. He looked up at his big cousin with tired but curious little eyes. It was a beautiful thing to see. Olivia hoped they'd be really close one day.

"I told you he'd be worth it. You must be exhausted, though."

"We are," Olivia said. "He was born at 6am but we managed to get a couple of hours sleep before you got here."

"You're really good with him, Ella," Peter said to his niece as Liam grabbed her finger. "He likes you."

"I like him too," she giggled as she kissed his cheek, making Rachael practically swoon at how adorable they were together.

"You'll be a great big cousin, Ella, I can tell," Olivia said, kissing her niece's hair.

"You two will be great parents, too, you know," Rachael said sincerely.

They could only smile nervously. "We hope so."

* * *

><p>Charlie brought his family over a little later on. Lucy was 18 months old now, and so beautiful. She had Charlie's hair and cheeky smile, but the rest of her was all Sonya. Charlie and Sonya greeted the new parents, Charlie holding Lucy. "Look, angel," he said to his daughter. "There's Olivia and Peter's new baby. Isn't he beautiful?"<p>

Lucy's reaction was wonderful to witness. As Charlie sat her next to Olivia on the bed, she was totally, completely captivated by Liam. Everybody watched her, seeing the wheels turn over in her head as she tried to process the idea of a person even smaller than her. She held a doll in her hands that she took everywhere these days, looking between it and the baby as if trying to comprehend the difference. Abandoning her doll, she timidly reached out and touched Liam's head, jolting at the touch. He was real, just like her. Liam opened his eyes and looked at her curiously, feebly reaching out to her. She took his hand, amazed by his little fingers. Their tiny hands pressed against each other was an amazing thing to see.

"I think Lucy's just met her new best friend," Sonya said. "They get on so well together."

"I hope they stay that way," Olivia replied.

"I'm sure they will," Charlie said. "Our families are so close that they'll grow up like cousins or something."

"Well, you guys will always be Uncle Charlie and Aunt Sonya to him," Peter said. "Cousins makes sense."

"He's such a calm baby," Sonya observed.

"He's been that way from the beginning, I can't believe it," Olivia said. "It probably won't last long, though."

"What did you name him?" Charlie asked.

"Liam. Liam Charles Dunham-Bishop," Peter said. "We wanted to name him after you for a while but we thought it'd get too confusing with two Charlies running around. So now his middle name's Charlie."

"Da!" Lucy said, pointing to Charlie.

"That's right, sweetheart, that's your Daddy's name," Olivia said to her, smiling.

"Wow, I…You didn't have to do that," Charlie said, surprised and honoured. "Thank you so much."

"You've been our best friend for years, man," Peter said. "After everything you've done for us, we felt it was only fair."

"We wanted to ask you as well," Olivia said. "Would you two like to be Liam's godparents?"

"Of course. We'd love to," Sonya said, beaming.

"Don't worry, guys, if anything should happen to you, we'll make sure he gets into Quantico," Charlie joked.

"You were right, by the way, Charlie," Peter said.

"About what?"

"Back when Olivia was pregnant you told us what it felt like to hold Lucy for the first time. I just wanted to say that it was exactly like that for me too."

"He bawled his eyes out," Olivia said, chuckling just a little bit.

"It's true, I did," he admitted. "We were both a mess, honestly."

Charlie laughed. "I told you that you would. You didn't believe me."

"I think a lot of guys do, whether they admit it or not," Sonya added.

"I think I may need your help with all this, man," Peter admitted. "I don't really know what I'm doing here and you're the best dad I know."

"You'll be an awesome dad, Peter. But if you need help from either of us, we're always here."

"Thank you."

"Livvy, may I… you know, hold him?" asked Charlie.

"Of course," she said, handing the baby boy to his godfather. Lucy was immediately upset by this, so Sonya carried her so she could still see Liam as Charlie held him.

"Hey there, little man," Charlie said to Liam. "We're your godparents. We've been waiting a long time to see you, buddy. You're a lucky boy, Liam. You couldn't ask for a better mommy and daddy."

Sonya held him for a while after that as the adults talked, Lucy still amusing herself just by watching Liam and letting her fingers brush his tiny body. She was particularly fascinated by his little feet – Charlie had to keep stopping her from tugging on his socks, which made her giggle hysterically. Lucy was a cheeky kid (Charlie always called her his "cheeky little monkey"). Whenever Charlie or Sonya told her not to do something, she'd just grin and do it some more. She and Liam would surely get up to all kinds of mischief together one day.

When it was time to go, they handed Liam back and left his parents smiling ear to ear. It was so, so wonderful to know that if anything ever happened to them, this was the family their son would go to. What was even better was the thought that even if everything was fine, their son would still have a beautiful set of godparents and a little girl who adored him. Olivia and Peter hadn't grown up with lots of family – Olivia was always moving around as an army brat and what little family Peter had was pretty unorthodox. It was heart-warming to know that their son had a network of people to support and love him, people who would always have his back, no matter what.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you guys are parents," Lincoln said, holding Liam.<p>

"Neither can I," Peter admitted. "I still don't think it's fully hit me yet. It's all kind of crazy."

The baby wriggled a little and waved a hand up at Lincoln, which Lincoln let wrap tightly around his finger. "You're a tough guy, aren't you buddy? You're gonna sail through that surgery tomorrow, I can tell."

"He's so adorable," Astrid gushed, pulling out a bottle of champagne from her bag. "The hospital has a no alcohol policy but I managed to sneak this in for you guys. After the day you've had you deserve it."

"Thanks, Astrid."

"Can you believe it, though?" she asked as Liam was passed to her, looking down on him sweetly. "You guys just had the first baby to ever be born of two universes. It's mind-blowing."

"If the media knew about him you guys would be getting flogged by reporters right now," Lincoln realised.

"I'm glad nobody knows then," Olivia said. "I don't even know how I would explain it to him."

"Do you think he'll ever need to know?" asked Lincoln.

"Maybe," Peter replied. "The observer who saved him said he was important, so maybe he has some big role in Fringe events in the future or something."

"Even if you don't tell him, the truth will come out eventually," Astrid said. "It always does."

They knew Astrid was right, but what she'd said unsettled them a bit. They were already unsure about how to raise a child, especially one that was so sick. The thought of him have Cortexiphan superpowers was also difficult to grapple with, but the thought of whether or not to tell him about his father's origins was something they hadn't spent too much time thinking about. It would be years before he would be able to understand it, let alone be ready to hear it, but Olivia and Peter knew that unlike Walter, they would always be honest with him, no matter the risk.

* * *

><p>They knew meeting with Walter was going to be complicated. There were still a lot of unsettled argument between the three of them, but they put it aside for the time being. Their son was more important.<p>

Peter was holding Liam when Walter first came in. No matter what bad feelings he still had for him, Peter couldn't help but soften as Walter smiled gently. "Is that my grandson?"

"No, we just stole some other couple's kid," Peter joked.

"Oh."

"Walter, I'm kidding. This is our little boy. His name's Liam."

Walter stepped a little closer, cautiously, as if afraid to disturb the baby or anger his parents. Tears hung in his eyes as he looked between Liam and Peter. "He's beautiful, son. May I hold him?"

Peter and Olivia looked at each other warily. They were trying to repair things with Walter but with his history of child experimentation and kidnapping they knew they'd probably never leave Liam alone with him or something like that. But holding him wouldn't be so bad. Olivia nodded with a hesitant smile. "It's OK."

Peter handed his son over to Walter to hold, watching closely as the old man took him gently in his arms. Looking down on the closest thing he would ever have to a grandson, Walter smiled through his tears. "He looks just like you did," Walter said softly. "Except your eyes were green."

Peter and Olivia watched him silently, amazed at the tenderness with which Walter looked down upon their son, stroking this cheek with the pad of his thumb. Maybe Walter really had changed.

"He's a miracle," Walter said. "When Belly and I first dreamed about crossing universes, we never thought that children of parents from two worlds would ever be able to be conceived, let alone survive pregnancy. But I must say this little boy has proven me wrong. He's a wonderful, wonderful miracle."

Liam made a small humming sound and wriggled a little bit, nestling into Walter's chest. "He likes you," Olivia said, unable to stop herself from smiling just a little.

"I hope so," Walter replied, still teary. The old man looked over to Peter and Olivia. "I know you don't have much reason to trust me," Walter said soberly. "But please understand that I never meant for the things I did to harm your child. I know how devastating it is to have a sick son, and I would never wish that upon you. I never meant for things to be this way."

"We know," Peter said. But he couldn't find much more to say after that. He hoped Liam could breathe some life into this broken family. Maybe now they would truly be able to move on.

That was the hope, anyway.

* * *

><p>By 6pm the nurses had announced the end of visiting hours and shooed away any other people from their room so Olivia could get some rest. By this point their bed was surrounded by flowers and little toys people had brought for them. Their room was kind of like a motel room, with a double bed, its own bathroom, some cupboards for them to store clothes, and a share kitchen was a couple of doors down. These rooms were designed for couples who had babies in the NICU, which was where Liam would be staying after his surgery. They'd already briefly met a few parents in the rooms around them with premature and sick babies in the hospital. The doctors let Liam sleep in their room tonight seeing as he would be taken away from them tomorrow.<p>

They took showers and Peter went to the share kitchen with some groceries he'd bought and made them some dinner. Olivia was on strict bed rest so he brought it back to their room only to find her lying on her side in bed, singing softly to Liam as he lay beside her, curled up against her chest, feeding.

"Hey," he said softly, trying not to disturb his son.

"Hey." She didn't look up. She only had eyes for her son in that moment. She could stare at him all day.

"I brought dinner."

"Great, thanks," she said, shifting in bed so she could eat comfortably. Liam whimpered a little. "Sorry, little one. We're just moving so Mommy can eat too, OK?"

"Expert multitasking," Peter praised as she ate dinner with her free hand while nursing Liam. "Told you, you're a natural mom."

"I'm just trying to hold him as much as I can," she said. "One of the nurses told me that we won't be able to hold him for a week or two after the surgery. He'll just be too fragile, too wired up, you know?"

"Oh," Peter said, disappointed. "I hadn't realised that."

"We gonna open that?" Olivia said, hinting to the bottle of champagne Astrid had brought them. "You know, to celebrate the first day of his life and all?"

"Is that OK for your breastfeeding?"

"I checked with a nurse. She said if I drink in moderation then it shouldn't be an issue. But if I ever get trashed for some reason I have to wait until I'm sober to feed him."

"I have a better idea," Peter said as he ate. "How about we save it for when we have no more surgeries to worry about? We can drink it the day we get to take him home."

She smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, exhausted after such a long day. It was hard to believe that 24 hours ago, Olivia had only just gone into labour. Their life had literally changed overnight in a wonderful, insane and utterly terrifying way.

Olivia finished eating and lay back on the bed with Liam still hungry at her chest. She smiled up at Peter sleepily as she placed her hand on Liam's back, holding him close. "Peter, could you take him, when he's done? I think I'm just gonna pass out," she yawned.

"Sure. Get some rest, sweetheart," he said, kissing her, and with that she drifted off to sleep.

When Liam was done nursing, Peter gently took him from Olivia's gentle grasp, putting him down in his cot before buttoning up his wife's shirt and tucking the blankets up around her. Picking up his son again, he carried him over to a chair and sat down, whispering sweet words to him until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore.

**Please review! Liam's first surgery is coming up next!**


	23. The Calm

**References: "Please don't dream tonight" (Dream Logic), **

**4:16 am:**

Nobody slept well that night before the surgery. Olivia and Peter were restless in their anxiety, and Liam was too young to be sleeping through the night. He hadn't even been alive for 24 hours yet. The first time he woke his parents, it was still dark. They both groaned as they woke – but they'd only been half asleep anyway. Olivia started to get up but Peter put kissed her softly and shook his head. "You need to rest. I'll take care of it."

He got up and turned on a small lamp over Liam's cot, worried by the sound of his son crying. Even though there were a million things that could make him cry, Peter's first worry was that something was terribly wrong and he was in pain. After checking him quickly, he discovered that he only needed to be changed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter quickly changed him and held Liam to his chest gently. "Shhh, little one," he whispered. "It's OK. It's alright. You need to get back to sleep, buddy. You've got a big day ahead of you…"

His cries quieted as he nestled against Peter, feeling content in his father's arms. As Peter looked down on him, he felt an instant stab of fear in his gut. It really hit him then that he was responsible for this boy for his whole life. Did he really have what it takes to be a good father? Would he be a better man than his own father? What if Liam didn't even make it through the surgery today? It was his fault he was sick in the first place. If anything happened to his son, he'd never be able to forgive himself.

"Please be OK today, Liam," he said softly, his voice breaking with hurt. "We couldn't bear to see anything bad happen to you. We just love you too much. Please be alright…"

Liam clumsily rubbed his own face a little in that way he always did, especially when he was sleepy. Peter kissed his son, laying him down to sleep. "Daddy loves you, little one. Sleep tight."

Going back to bed, he wrapped his arms tightly around his wife for comfort, trying to find the courage to close his eyes. "Please don't dream tonight," he whispered, knowing that the nightmares would be waiting for him.

* * *

><p><strong>7:39 am: <strong>

The next time Liam woke up crying, his parents were already awake. Peter had gone to get breakfast and Olivia was getting dressed when Liam started whimpering. It wasn't long before he was bawling, fussing in his cot. Olivia rushed to him, trying to figure out what was wrong.

But nothing seemed to fit. He wasn't hungry. He didn't need changing. He wasn't cold or uncomfortable in his bed. She tried everything. By this point she was on the verge of tears. She was exhausted, hormonal, in pain and stressed about his surgery – she really didn't need his mystery cry right now.

Scared he was in pain, or sick, she felt his forehead. He didn't have a temperature. Everything else has failed. There had to be something wrong. Her hands shook with fear as she immediately pressed the nurses' button by their bed and held Liam close to her chest, trying to stay calm. She sang to him, the threat of tears stinging her eyes, and he started to settle just a little.

"Good boy," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "It's alright sweetheart. I'm right here. Shhh…It's OK."

Remarkably, his cries quieted until he was just humming softly, rubbing his face against the skin of her upper chest. Stunned, she had no idea what she'd done, but somehow it had worked.

Moments later, the nurse came. "Is everything alright Mrs Dunham?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just… He was crying and I tried feeding him and changing him and stuff but he didn't want anything. I don't even know how I got him to stop."

The nurse checked over him quickly before giving Olivia a soft smile. "Looks like he just wanted you," she said, sitting beside Olivia on the bed. "You've been worried about his surgery?"

Olivia nodded, looking down on her son and rubbing his back as he snuggled against her.

"Sometimes babies can catch a vibe like that, particularly from their mothers. If you were scared, he might have sensed it and got scared too. When you put him back to bed, it might help to wrap him in whatever shirt you're wearing. That way he can smell you on his skin and not feel so alone. But for now try putting him inside your shirt so he can feel you skin on skin, it helps."

The nurse helped her so that now Liam was lying against her chest, his little head popping out the collar of her shirt. He seemed to still completely then. "I think he's gone back to sleep," Olivia said in awe.

"Good," the nurse said, smiling supportively. "There's no need to worry about him for now. He just wanted his mom."

"Thank you for your help," Olivia said. "I'm sorry I called you, I just…"

"It's fine, Mrs Dunham. We're here to help. Being a parent is a hard thing to adjust to. It's normal to be terrified or not know what to do, so don't worry. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I don't think so. Thank you so much."

With that, the nurse left, leaving Olivia with baby Liam snuggled to her chest. "You gave me quite a scare there, Mister," she whispered to him. "Try not to do that too often, OK?"

Peter soon came back with some toast, looking at her and Liam with a puzzled expression on his face. "Is he OK?"

"He's fine," she said, her voice tired.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," she said. A soft smile graced her face. "The nurse helped me out. He was crying."

"What did he want?"

She kissed her son's forehead as he slept. "Nothing. He just wanted me."

Peter smiled, kissing her cheek. "He loves you."

When Peter said that, part of her wanted to cry. She knew for a long time that she loved her son, but the fact that he needed her, that he was comforted by her and wanted to be with her, was incredible. Feeling her son nestle against her in his sleep, his tiny hands clutching and pressing against her skin, she knew that he loved her back, even if he was too young to fully understand it all.

She kissed his forehead. "I love him too," she whispered, putting him down to sleep.

When she turned back to Peter, he saw tears hanging in her eyes. "Livia," he murmured, cupping her face and running the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

Olivia sighed. "It's going to be a long day," she said.

All Peter could bring himself to do was nod.

* * *

><p><strong>9:53 am:<strong>

Letting go of him had been gut-wrenching. Excruciating even.

He could tell something was wrong, just like the nurse had said earlier. Olivia and Peter did their best to comfort their bawling son as the doctors came for him. They had held him, kissed him, smelled him, memorised every detail of his face – all with the terrifying idea that he may not make it through the surgery that was needed to save his life. And then they let him go.

The moment they put their son's life in the hands of strangers, it was like their world fell to pieces. Frank had told them the surgery would take hours, so he sent an OR nurse to give them updates whenever possible. But between these updates, time passed sinfully slowly, leaving Olivia and Peter dead silent in the waiting room together, with a choking grip on each others' trembling hands.

Peter looked up to find his wife weeping. The fact that she had been crying so silently made him ache. She blinked and looked straight ahead. "I'm fine," she said. But that was a lie, he knew. He could feel her shaking as if she was going to explode. Not finding the right words to say, he just maintained his grip on her hand and leaned back in his chair beside her. He knew she wasn't fine, but he wasn't going to argue with her. Not today.

* * *

><p><strong>3:32 pm: <strong>

"Liv, please eat something."

Olivia shook her head. She was practically catatonic, staring straight ahead at nothing through eyes that were bloodshot and dark around the edges.

Rachael sat beside her. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you," she said earnestly. "But please, Olivia, you need to eat."

"I don't care," she whispered.

"Liv," Rachael sighed. "I know you're worried about Liam, but he's going to need you when he gets out of surgery. That means you need to take care of yourself too. Please, Liv."

Olivia closed her eyes, trying to block her tears. "I don't want food," she said, her voice gravelly from crying all day. Between the hormones, exhaustion from the birth and stress of the surgery, she couldn't take this anymore. "I want my son back," she wept. "I just want to hold him."

"I know, Liv," Rachael said, pulling her sister close. "I know how much you love him."

"I need to know he's OK."

"Well all the updates have been good so far. He's doing really well in there. Come o Olivia, please. If you're going to be strong for him, then you need to eat. I don't care if it's half a bite, but I won't stop pestering you until you eat. You know me, Liv. I'm relentless," Rachael teased, handing her a plate of food. Olivia gingerly accepted it, knowing her sister was right, and reluctantly took a small bite.

While Rachael was comforting her sister, Peter was at the other end of the waiting room, pacing incessantly as Charlie tried to console him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking _do_," Peter muttered in frustration. "My kid's sick and I'm just sitting here. I can't even do anything."

"I know, Peter. But the doctors are doing everything they can. These people are experts on this stuff. Liam's in good hands."

"I just…" Peter stopped pacing for a moment. "I don't know how to do this, man. I'm a mess, Olivia's a mess. I mean, considering she gave birth yesterday she's doing well, but she won't talk to me. She won't eat or rest."

"To be fair, neither will you."

Peter rubbed his bleary eyes. "I know. But she needs to rest. She just… She loves him so much. This is killing her and I don't know how to help her."

Charlie sighed. "I don't know what to say, Peter. I can't imagine what this is like for you both. I guess this is just one of those things where it has to get worse before it gets better. But it will get better, Peter. It will."

"How do you know that?" Peter muttered.

"I don't," Charlie admitted. "It's just what I have to believe. He's gonna be fine."

A nurse came out to give them an update and all four people practically ran to her. "Is he OK?" Olivia asked. Even though she was trying to be strong for her son, she couldn't hide the desperation in her voice.

"He's doing very well. They've finished putting his abdominal organs back in place, so now they just need to finish closing up, which will take at least another hour. But the hardest part's over and we can be confident that the surgery was successful. Your son is fine."

Olivia breathed a shaky sigh of relief, barely hanging on by a thread at this point. "That's great," Charlie and Rachael said, but Olivia couldn't bring herself to say anything. She was too exhausted, too distraught, too desperate to hold her son. Sensing this, Peter took her in his arms and they clung to each other, both their bodies trembling with the same anxious rhythm. His hand cradled the back of her head, and he felt a slight wetness on his shoulder, where her face was buried. His heart broke for her. It broke for both of them. He remembered when Ella was first born how excited he was to be back in hospital with Olivia and his own child. He never thought it would be like this.

"When can we see him?" Peter asked, his voice weaker that he needed it to be.

"We still have an hour or so left to complete the surgery, then we'll need some time to set him up in the NICU to recover. Dr Stanton will come and take you to see him then. Two hours, maybe."

"OK. Thank you."

Peter held his wife, not knowing how they had survived this day. But it wasn't over yet. They knew that all too well.

* * *

><p><strong>5:49 pm:<strong>

"Mrs Dunham? Mr Bishop?"

Olivia looked up, tears in her eyes. "Is he OK?"

"He's in recovery. The surgery was a success but he still has a long way to go," Frank replied. "Would you two like to see him?"

Stupid question. Peter took Olivia's hand and they got up, following Frank down the corridors to the NICU. They hadn't actually been in there yet. The wing was strictly reserved for the hospital staff and families of the babies staying there.

They reached a room full of closets and wash basins. "You have to come through here to enter the NICU," Frank told them. "We try to keep the ward as sterile at possible, so we put on gowns over our clothes and wash our hands in here before we go in."

With shaking hands they did as he asked. Neither of them quite knew what to say. They were dying to see their son, but something in Frank's face told them that this was going to be harder than they first anticipated.

Frank sighed. "I just want to prepare you, before we go inside," he told them. Needless to say, this made them even more nervous, if that was possible. "Liam's surgery was successful but he has a lot of healing to do. He's still unconscious, a lot of drugs are in his body to help him manage his pain, and we have a lot of sensors and wires monitoring his vitals. A basic ventilator is helping to regulate his breathing and he's being fed through a tube, but he can breathe on his own. I'm not going to lie to you – he looks bad. But I promise, he really is doing well considering he just had major surgery."

They could only nod silently. Olivia felt like her legs would give out at any moment. Peter watched how she swallowed back tears, trying so hard to be strong, though all the while she was trembling. He was just the same. He felt like he couldn't even speak. His voice was caught somewhere in the tight dryness of his throat, his stomach clenched and nauseatingly knotted. He felt his wife take his hand as they followed Frank through the next door to the NICU ward.

Walking past the areas set up for each child, all kinds of thoughts and emotions surged through their brains at full velocity. Amid the fear there was comfort. There was so much love in that room, between the worried parents and caring nurses – but even so it felt horrible to be there. There's nothing worse than seeing little babies with a lot of scars. Some of them, Frank explained, had congenital defects like their son and had needed extensive surgery. Others had been born months premature. They walked past babies who were so small they could fit in your hand.

Finally they reached the section of the ward that had been set up for Liam. Olivia had to fight to keep her knees from buckling beneath her. She practically ran to her son's side, sitting in the chair beside his incubator and pressing her hands against the plastic. Peter just froze, sickened. He honestly couldn't even move his feet. He couldn't even breathe.

Liam looked horrendous. He seemed so tiny and vulnerable in that incubator - hooked up to a ventilator, feeding tubes in his nose, wires and tubes all over him, bandages covering his swollen stomach, his eyelids taped shut. It seemed impossible that this was the baby Olivia had given birth to yesterday, the son who they had held and kissed and said goodbye to that morning. The only thing that even made him look alive was the tiny swell of his chest rising and falling.

Olivia was the first to speak. "We can't hold him?" Her voice was thick with tears.

"I'm afraid he's too fragile for that right now," Frank said sympathetically. "But you can reach in through those holes and touch him. Stroking tends to irritate newborns who've just had surgery, but often just laying a hand on a baby's head or holding their hand can help them recover. Babies tend to do better if they don't feel all alone in there."

Olivia reached in and gently laid her hands on her child, her forehead against the plastic and fighting sobs as she felt the warmth of his soft skin. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she whispered to him. "It's OK. Today was rough but you did really well…"

"I can't imagine how difficult it must be to see him like this," Frank continued. "But the surgery went very well."

"How long will he be like this?" asked Olivia.

"He's going to be very delicate for a few more days. If he breathes evenly on his own, we'll try taking him off the ventilator tomorrow. It's just there as a precaution for now. His stomach will be swollen for a while as it tries to accommodate the organs we've rearranged and we'll have to feed him through tubes until his body adjusts. But he won't have a scar. Omphalocele surgery is done through the belly button so there won't be any scarring at all. After a few days, if all goes well, you'll be able to hold him gently and feed him and all that."

"Is he suffering?"

"No, Mrs Dunham. He's not in any pain. I know it doesn't look that way right now, but he's going to be fine. We have plenty of time to let him heal before his second surgery. Until then, all we can do is be patient and help him recover."

Frank gave them some time alone with Liam. This whole time, Peter hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, hadn't been able to take his eyes off his son's frail body.

"Peter…?"

He looked up.

"Are you OK?" his wife asked, trying so hard not to cry.

He shook his head. He felt despair and helplessness and fear, but above all that he felt rage. Total rage, for what Walter's actions did to his child. Seeing his one-day-old baby on a ventilator was the kind of thing that made him want to go and buy a shotgun. It made him want to burn the world down.

And then there was the guilt. Walter may have brought him to this side, but he'd done it to save his life. In the end, it was him being from the other side that was making Liam sick. Olivia would have been able to have healthy kids with anybody else but him. She deserved a husband who could give her children without almost killing them. Liam deserved a father who wasn't making him sick. Peter loved his family, but he couldn't give them that.

"Peter…" she said again. "Come here. Please."

Somehow he found the ability to move his feet, pulling up a chair beside his wife. Unclenching his fist, he gently laid his hand on his son. "Daddy's sorry he hurt you, buddy. I'm so sorry…"

He felt Olivia lean her head on his shoulder, her hand covering his as it lay on Liam's head. "This wasn't your fault, Peter," she said. She wiped her face. "You know, he looks like you."

"What do you mean? He's all you."

She shook her head. "He glimmers."

"Really?"

"Just a little. It's different, though – softer. And yours is more yellow, his is kind of blue."

Peter sighed, thumbing through her hair with his free hand and kissing her softly. "I'm sorry. Please don't be scared. The surgery went well. I know he looks bad now, but he's going to get better."

"I know, it just…" She stopped, swallowing thickly through her tears. "It hurts so much to see him like this."

"I know, sweetheart. I know," he said as they wept quietly by their son's side. "I have no idea how we made it through this day. But if we can survive today, we can survive the rest, I know it."

Olivia caressed Liam's forehead with the pad of her thumb, fighting tears. "I can't believe we have to do this again."

She had nothing more to say after that, and neither did he. The verity of her words left a bitter taste in his mouth - one he couldn't swallow down.

**Please, please review! 2****nd**** surgery coming up next…**


	24. Shoeboxes

**Chapter 24: Shoeboxes**

**No more teasing guys, this is the real deal. **

**References: "She wanted to bring something from her room" (Bound), "I am not your son" (The Man From the Other Side), Walter's Prayer (6:02am EST), "He made it" (Bloodline),**

_The damage to Liam's heart is more severe than we first anticipated. _

Those words rang over and over in Olivia's head as she sat in the waiting room of the NICU, completely in shock. It had been a month since her son's first surgery. He had recovered so quickly afterwards – within a day he was breathing on his own and in a little over a week he was out of his incubator and feeding normally again. His parents had to wait eight whole days before they could hold him, but once they were able to, they almost never let him go.

They'd gotten used to life in the hospital, getting to know the other parents staying there and learning how to take care of their baby for when they went home – not just how to bathe and feed him, but also how to change his bandages, what to do if he stopped breathing, how to perform CPR on an infant. Just in case. It was unsettling, but they were given so much support from the nurses, the other parents and their friends and family who came to visit them. Each day Liam got stronger and happier, and so did they.

Now at one month old, he was even more beautiful than when he was first born. He had an impressive head of blonde hair now, and two warm brown eyes (Olivia swore Liam got them from her father). They couldn't tell who he got the hair from, since Peter was also blonde as a baby before his hair started getting darker. Liam's swollen belly from the first surgery had returned to normal size, and he loved it when Olivia tickled him there until he squealed. His sight was a lot better too. He could recognise his parents when they walked into the room, making him giggle and smile in a way that made Olivia's heart soar. Her husband was totally smitten with him, too (especially when he rocked that baby-sized MIT t-shirt Astrid bought him). Liam and Peter always grinned at each other the way people sharing a secret do - slyly, like they'd been plotting mischievous schemes all day. When Liam got older, they would probably be doing that for real.

He was doing fine. Everything was going so well. So when they sent him into his second surgery, they were worried of course, but they thought he'd be OK. At first the OR nurse's updates were normal, explaining what was being done. But a few hours in, something was wrong. They could tell, just by the look on the nurse's face. And that's when she told them.

_The damage to Liam's heart is more severe than we first anticipated. We're experiencing complications in the surgery. We're doing everything we can, but I'm afraid it doesn't look good. Is there anyone I can call for you? Is there anything we can do?_

With those words, their world fell to pieces.

And now they were waiting, waiting, those words ringing in Olivia's head. He'd only been around for four weeks, but she could not imagine existing in a world where her son didn't. Without him in her belly or in her arms, she felt empty, terrified by the idea of what was happening to him on the other side of the OR door. She had begged the nurses to let her in there so she could be with him. She just wanted to hold his hand. But it wasn't allowed. They had to let the doctors do their job.

Peter was frozen in his seat, trying to process it all. He could barely speak, barely think. His son was only a month old. Far too young to die. Hadn't he and his wife been through enough over the years? No. Liam couldn't be dying. Of course not. No.

Beside him, Olivia collapsed into sobs.

* * *

><p>It was another six hours before the surgery was over. Frank came by to see them immediately after Liam was settled in recovery, but by then it was almost 4am. He sat on the edge of their bed, cautiously searching for his words. "He's alive," he said, knowing that was the first thing they'd want to hear. "But I'm afraid Baby Liam has had a very bad night. The surgery was a successful in repairing his heart but it took a great toll on his body. He's very weak and he's not breathing on his own. We're monitoring him closely in the NICU, but I'm sorry to say this is going to be a very difficult time for you both. It doesn't look good."<p>

"What are you trying to say?" Peter asked. "He's going to get worse?"

Frank sighed. "What I'm saying is that in the shape he's in, the next 24 hours are critical. If he continues to fight like he has and overcomes this hurdle, then we can expect him to keep recovering and eventually live a very normal life. But I'm afraid that if his condition worsens today then his chances of survival are very slim. He's hanging by a thread right now. I'm sincerely sorry to have to tell you this."

Neither of them knew what to say, and even if they did, they wouldn't have been able to spit it out. Their devastation crippled them, muted them. They could barely breathe.

"_What?_" Peter finally choked out, feeling his wife imploding next to him. "He could die?"

"I can assure you that we are doing everything we can to keep Liam strong," Frank said sympathetically. "After everything he's been through with the omphalocele, the drugs Olivia was treated with as a child, the stress of her kidnapping, and the two surgeries…he's fought very hard to make it this far. His vitals are stable for now and that is a good sign. I'm not saying that he's dying – I'm saying that he's in a very delicate position where it is an unfortunate possibility. Liam is a very brave little boy and I hope that you two can remain hopeful through this difficult time."

"What do we do?" Olivia asked, tears streaming down her face. "Is there anything we can do for him or do we just…wait?"

"As parents, all you need to do is be with him. He's just barely conscious and on a lot of drugs, but he'll be able to feel you holding his hand. That can be a great comfort to babies and really boost their recovery. The best thing you can do for Liam is simply love him, support each other and remain hopeful that he will pull through. This is going to be a very rough day for you, so feel free to invite family or friends to come and give you support. We also have counsellors and religious staff if you'd like someone to talk to. While I encourage you to hope for the best, I'm afraid you must also prepare for the worst. But I can assure you we are working very hard for Liam and are there to support you both in any way we can. If you have any questions or if there's anything we can do for you, please let us know."

"Can we see him?" Peter asked.

"Yes, of course. He's in the NICU whenever you're ready."

"Thank you."

When Frank left, the room was filled with a dead silence. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, unable to speak as they tried to absorb it all, weeping ceaselessly. Somehow they got up, walking silently down to the NICU.

"We should call everyone," Olivia finally said, her broken voice barely above a whisper.

Peter nodded.

* * *

><p>They held Liam's hands for what seemed like days. He was barely conscious and very drugged up, unable to breathe on his own, but every now and then he'd just squeeze back. It was so feeble you could almost miss it, but it was enough. Their one overwhelming wish was to hold him, but it wasn't allowed. The helplessness was unbearable. Their son was at his lowest, fighting for his life, and there was nothing they could do but hold his hand and tell him how much they loved him.<p>

Olivia's phone rang and she stepped outside. "Hello?"

"Olivia, it's Rachael. I just got your message. What's going on?"

Olivia breathed a small sigh of relief. They'd called everyone to let them know what was happening, but she hadn't been able to get through to her sister. Hearing her voice, Olivia started crying.

"Liv? Liv, are you alright?"

She swallowed. "Rach, I know it's early, but I need you to wake up Ella and bring her down here."

"Sure. We were going to come by this afternoon anyway."

"No, Rach, you need to come _now_," she cried desperately.

"OK. Of course, we'll come. Liv, what's going on? You're really worrying me."

Olivia's legs buckled beneath her, and she found a chair to sit in, burying her face in her hands as she cried. The nurses had offered to call their friends and family, but Peter and Olivia decided everyone should hear it from them. "Rachael…" she sobbed. "Rachael, I think he's dying."

"What?" Rachael gasped. "I was there for the start of the surgery yesterday. He was doing fine."

"I know, he was. But the operation took a bad turn last night and now they're not sure if he's gonna make it another day. He's stable for now, but this might be the last chance for you and Ella to see him. Please, Rach, I need you down here."

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Liv."

"They're saying if he keeps improving through to tomorrow morning then he should be OK for good, but we don't want to take any chances, in case we lose him today."

"Are you sure it's a good idea for me to bring Ella? She loves Liam to pieces and I don't want her to see him hooked up to ventilators and stuff. I don't want her to remember her cousin like that."

"Please bring her, Rach," Olivia begged. "This might be the last time she gets to see him. _Please_."

"OK. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Thank you. Please hurry."

"I will. Stay strong, Liv. I love you."

"I love you too," Olivia choked, hanging up and going back to be with her son.

A short time later, a nurse told them Rachael and Ella were waiting outside the NICU for them. Not even bothering to wipe away her tears, Olivia went out into the corridor to meet them. She felt a pang of fear in her gut. Maybe Rachael was right. It might not have been a great idea to bring Ella. This would probably be very frightening for a four year old. But it had to be done. Olivia would never have forgiven herself if her niece never got to say goodbye to her son.

She was immediately enveloped in a tearful hug from her sister. "I'm so sorry, Liv. How is he?"

"It's bad, but he's hanging in there. Thank you so much for coming."

"Aunt Liv, why are you crying?" Ella asked, looking up at her innocently and clutching a soft toy panda in her hands. She was still in her pyjamas. It wasn't even 6am after all.

"Ella, we talked about this in the car," Rachael replied. "Your baby cousin is very sick and that's making everyone sad."

"Oh. I brought this for Liam," she said to Olivia, holding out the panda.

"She wanted to bring him something from her room," Rachael explained.

Smiling at Ella through her tears, Olivia took it carefully in her hands. "You know Liam really, really needs one of these. Thank you so much, baby girl," she said, kissing her niece. "Now Ella, when we go inside to see Liam things might be a little bit scary in there. He's very sick and he's going to have a lot of wires and things on him which are gonna help make him better. We have to put on some special clothes and wash our hands before we go inside so we don't make any of the other babies sick. And we have to be really quiet. But if you get scared or don't want to be there anymore just tell me or your mom, OK?"

Ella nodded, looking a little nervous. Again, Olivia started to wonder if this was a good idea. Olivia showed them how to scrub in and took them inside the NICU. As they walked through, Ella reached for Rachael's hand, sticking close to her. "It's OK, Ella," Rachael whispered, though there were tears tracking down her cheeks.

They reached Liam's incubator. "Hi Uncle Peter," Ella said, a smile on her face again. She adored her Uncle Peter.

"Hey, Princess," he said, picking her up to sit on his lap. "Hi Rachael."

"Hey. I heard things don't look too good."

Peter sighed. "No they don't. But he's fought so hard for so long. As long as he wants to fight then we're fighting with him."

"Why is he in that box, Uncle Peter?" Ella asked, looking curiously at the incubator.

"This is a magic box. It's going to make him all better."

"Can I hold him?"

"Not right now, baby girl," Olivia said. "We're not allowed to, because he's too sick. You can touch him though."

"Really?"

"Yep. As long as you're very soft and careful. Do you want to hold his hand?"

"OK."

Peter removed his hand from the incubator and helped Ella place hers inside. "There. Good girl."

Ella gasped a little at the warmth of her baby cousin's skin, then started whispering to him as she always did when they were together. "Hi Liam. Do you remember me? My name's Ella. I'm your big cousin. I hope you get better soon and you get to go home so we can play…" She looked up to Olivia. "Can we put Panda in the magic box?"

They checked with a nurse, who said it was OK and put Ella's panda in there with Liam. They kept talking but Peter sensed that Olivia needed some private comfort from her sister. "Do you two want some time with him?"

"Would you mind?" Olivia asked.

"It's fine." He turned to Ella, who sat shyly in his lap. "Hey Ella, you want some ice cream?"

"Yes, please," she replied politely. Rachael had taught her well.

It hurt him to leave his son, but he needed some time out of that room himself. Wiping his tears away, Peter told her they could go to the cafeteria and get some. "Say goodbye to Liam," he said softly. Olivia and Rachael crumbled at the gravity of those words, even though Ella didn't understand that Liam might not make it through the day.

"Bye bye, Liam," Ella said. "Get better soon, OK? Love you." She kissed her fingers and touched his head, looking up with worry when she saw her mother and aunt crying. "Did I say something bad? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Weeping himself, Peter picked Ella up and held her close – her innocence a stark reminder of what he was losing. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. That was good, princess. That was really good."

He carried Ella out of the NICU, taking her back to the scrub room to wash up again. He sensed his niece being distant and knelt beside her. "You OK, princess?"

"I don't like that place, Uncle Peter," she said softly. "It's scary."

"I think it's scary too, Ella. But you were very brave."

Seeing the sorrow written across his face, Ella took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tippy-toes. "Don't cry, Uncle Peter. He'll get better."

Trembling in his anguish, he pulled away and forced a smile, reaching for the little girl's hand. "Come on. Let's go get you some ice cream."

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, the others started coming in from New York. Astrid and Lincoln had brought them meals and cried with them, telling them Liam was strong like his parents and would pull through. They were in the NICU with Olivia when Walter showed up outside. Seeing him, Peter was filled with rage and stormed out to confront him.<p>

"Get out, Walter," he demanded coldly. If Olivia wasn't in the next room, he probably would have killed the man.

"Son…"

"I am not your son!" he spat. "And after what you've done to mine, you're not welcome here. _Get out_."

He started walking away, but Walter only followed him. "Peter, I know how difficult it is to lose a son, and I only wanted to -"

"I haven't lost my son," Peter reminded him. "He's fighting like a tiger in there. I haven't lost him. Besides, it's your fault he's even sick!"

"Peter…"

"You should have let me die!" Peter was yelling now, all the rage and agony of the day suddenly roaring out of him. "My baby's sick because I'm from the other side! He's hooked up to machines, he can't eat, he can't even fucking breathe! I wish he never had to go through this! You should have let me go, Walter!"

"Son, don't say things like that."

"He is _barely_ alive! And so am I," he fumed, furious tears hanging in his eyes. He took an aggressive step forward and stood toe to toe with Walter. "Don't you get it? That boy is everything to me, Walter. If he dies, I'm fucking out of here."

"Peter -"

"I'm going just like Mom. I'm done."

"Don't say-"

"You hear me? _I'm done_."

There was silence for a moment. Peter took a step away, shaking his head in dismay and slamming his hand against the wall, the stinging pain giving him some relief from the hurt in his heart. It took every ounce of restraint in him not to beat the living shit out his father. He swallowed.

"You should have just left me there to die, Walter," he muttered. "It would have been fucking easier than this."

With that he stormed out, barely holding himself together. But he turned the first corner and ran straight into Olivia. She stood before him, tears coating her shocked face. He realised then that as she'd come to find him, she'd heard everything.

He ran a hand over his face. "Livia…"

"Did you mean that, Peter? Are you really going to kill yourself if he dies?"

"No," he sighed. "No, of course not."

"I don't believe you."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I have no idea how to handle this, Olivia," he admitted, taking a tentative step closer. "I feel like if he dies…it's like I'll die. It'd destroy us both. Don't you feel that too?"

"Of course I do!" she cried, anger in her voice. "But I'd stay here for you! If it happened I'd need you so much. You'd be the only thing getting me through. If you left me like that, I would never forgive you!"

"I'm sorry, Livia."

"I can't fucking look at you right now…" she muttered bitterly, turning away.

He reached for her wrist. "Don't walk away from me."

"Get off!"

She struggled against his grip.

"Livia…"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Pulling away, she hit him. Hard. Then again. And again. He let her. He hated himself enough to know he deserved it. She sobbed, her fists pounded his chest to a drumless beat. "I hate you…" she cried. "I hate you, I hate you…"

"Livia…" he said, grabbing her again.

"No!" she cried, trying to wrestle from his grip, but he overpowered her, wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her to his chest, letting her cry against his shoulder. As her fury left her and despair took its place, he felt her trembling against him, cradling her delicately like fractured glass ready to shatter.

"Sweetheart, I promise you, I would never really do that," he whispered, a hand stroking her hair as she broke down. "Shh… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, and you shouldn't have heard it. Maybe I just said it to hurt Walter, I don't know. You know me – I never think before I speak. I didn't mean it."

"Don't ever leave me," she sobbed into the tender warmth of his jacket. "Not after this. Please, Peter, I…"

"I'm not going anywhere. And neither is Liam. We're all going to make it through this. It's gonna be OK…"

He really, really wished he could believe that.

* * *

><p>Astrid reached for Lincoln's hand on the way out of the hospital. They'd just been to see Liam, and it was emotional to say the least. "You OK?" she asked him.<p>

He nodded.

"Lincoln…"

Sighing, he turned to her, angry tears glistening in his eyes. "It's not fair."

"I know."

"I mean it," he said gravely. "Liv and Peter are two of the best people I know. But they've had a shitty life. I've seen them deal with so much, and it's like they never have a chance to be happy. And they deserve that – to be happy, just once. They don't deserve to lose their kid."

Astrid nodded and wiped tears away. "Liam's a sweet little boy."

"Hey…" he said, pulling her into his arms. "I'm sure he'll be alright. He's just going through a rough patch. You'll see."

"I hope so," she said.

Brushing away some of her frizzy hair, he kissed her forehead and held her close. "Me too."

* * *

><p>"How's he doing?" Sonya asked as she sat by Olivia in the cafeteria, giving her some coffee.<p>

"He's still in critical condition. They're taking him for some tests right now. But they say he's not getting worse, so…"

"Well that's good, right?"

"I hope so," Olivia said. "He's not getting better, either."

"I'm sure he will," Sonya said, weeping. "He just needs more time. But he's not getting worse and that's wonderful."

Olivia fidgeted. She barely touched her coffee. Feeling the tears well up in her eyes again, she shook her head to clear it. No. She couldn't cry now. She had to be strong for her son. And for Peter.

Sensing her being tense, Sonya gently wrapped her arms around her friend. "Liv, it's OK to cry. I know you're trying to be strong, but crying doesn't mean that you're weak. It just means that you love him. It's OK."

Olivia nodded silently, finally letting those hanging tears track down her cheeks, all the while still trying to keep herself from completely falling to pieces.

But down the hall, outside the NICU, Peter was already too late for that.

* * *

><p>Peter was wrecked.<p>

He and Charlie were sitting in the waiting area outside Liam's ward, waiting desperately for word from the doctors. Charlie was in no better shape. For a long time he hadn't been able to say a word as they just waited, his hand never leaving Peter's shoulder.

"I've never been to a kid's funeral before," Peter whispered, suddenly realising it. He turned to his friend. "Have you?"

Charlie shook his head, silent.

"I bet it's horrible."

Around them, the world spun madly on. Nurses chatted to each other. Phones rang. Monitors beeped. Somebody yelled at the vending machine. Sirens echoed down the streets.

Peter looked to his friend, tears in his eyes. "He's my son, Charlie. And he could be dying. How the fuck do I handle that?"

Again, Charlie was silent. He just tightened his grip on Peter's shoulder.

"While we've been staying in the hospital, I've been having nightmares," Peter confessed. "I dream about white coffins the size of shoe boxes. And signing my name as his father on his death certificate, and putting him in the fucking ground…"

By this point, Charlie could feel him shaking.

"How do I do that, Charlie?" Peter choked. "How? He's my little boy."

He collapsed into sobs then. Loud, relentless sobs. Normally Peter Bishop would never sink so low as to let himself to cry like this in front of anyone, especially another guy - but pride had no place in the waiting room of a NICU.

Charlie held him close, crying alongside his friend. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I'm sure he'll be alright in the end. I don't know what to say. I am so, so sorry…"

* * *

><p>Walter stood alone in the small, dark chapel of the hospital with fidgeting hands. Peter and Olivia didn't want to see him, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave the hospital. Looking around the room, he felt uncomfortable there. He'd lost much of his faith since his son died all those years ago. But on days like these, all he could do was bargain with God.<p>

"I don't know my way around here," he confessed, his voice quiet with apprehension. "Other people, I suppose, find comfort being in chapels, speaking to you."

Glancing around, he searched for a place to direct his voice. Speaking into thin air felt useless. His eyes settled on a wooden cross, hanging passively from the wall opposite. "I have no other place to turn," he said, getting bolder now. "I asked you for a sign, and you sent it to me. A white tulip. And I was so grateful. Since then, in moments of deep despair, I have found solace in believing that you had forgiven me."

Walter's face crumbled, tears stinging his eyes. "God…I know my crimes are unforgiveable. So punish me," he pleaded. "Do what you want to _me_. But I beg you, spare this boy..."

He fell to his knees.

* * *

><p>It was well into the night now. Liam's condition was still classified as critical, but the doctors said he was starting to improve. Olivia found this hard to believe. Her son was still intubated, hooked up to machines, mostly unconscious. Every now and then his eyelids would flutter in his sleep or he'd move slightly, but other than that, he seemed lifeless.<p>

She found herself praying for the first time in 20 years. She wasn't even sure if she believed in God, or if he was a God worth praying to, but she was desperate enough to do anything at this point. They knew for a long time that their son would be sick, but nothing could have prepared them for this. Maybe they shouldn't have ever gotten their hopes up. Everyone told them they wouldn't be able to have healthy kids because Peter was from over there. Who were they kidding, believing Liam would be OK?

She felt a tiny pressure on her finger and realised Liam was squeezing it. His eyelids fluttered a little and she knew he was only just awake, his head swimming with all the painkillers and medication in his body. Peter must have felt it too, because he squeezed Liam's other hand lightly in response and laid a gentle hand on his head. "It's OK, buddy. Mommy and Daddy are here. You're not alone. No, you're not. You're not alone..."

"Please hang on for us, Liam," Olivia whispered. "I know it's hard and it hurts but if you just make it through the night then everything will be OK. You've come so far and I'm so proud of you, but you can't give up yet. We love you too much. Please, sweetheart. Fight."

She said these things over and over, but inside she'd lost all hope. Liam was just too far gone. But she would stay with him through everything. She owed him that much. They hadn't slept in almost two days, but Olivia refused to let go of his hand for a second.

She didn't want her son to die alone.

* * *

><p>Liam started choking.<p>

In the whirlwind that followed, Olivia lost it. Peter and a nurse literally had to hold her back just so the doctors could work on him. She just kept sobbing, "No, please, no, not yet…"

Peter was just as wrecked. He cried, holding his wife as she fell to pieces. She was screaming. He felt sick.

"Don't worry," Frank told them. "This is good."

"How is this good?" Olivia screamed. "He's choking!"

"He's fighting the intubation. That means he's trying to breathe on his own."

They looked on, helpless, as Frank and the others removed Liam's oxygen tube and cleared his nose and mouth so he could breathe. The baby coughed, choked, and then started wailing in his bed as the doctors checked him over. After declaring him temporarily stable, they adjusted Liam's medical status from critical to serious condition.

Seeing Peter and Olivia's terrified faces, Frank explained it all. "This is great news. He's still got a long way to go, but breathing on his own is a huge step. Come over and say hi, he's fine."

They practically ran to him, seeing Liam's incubator opened up and their bawling baby inside. Crying themselves, they reached in and touched him soothingly. "It's OK, buddy," Peter cried. "You did a good job."

"Can we hold him?" Olivia asked. "Please?"

The doctors looked to each other and decided that since they were there in case things went wrong, that would be OK. These parents deserved to hold their baby after the day they had. "Sure," said Frank. "He could use a hug, don't you think?"

Olivia picked up her son, careful of his wires, and held him tightly to her chest as he whimpered and fussed. "I thought I'd lost you, little one," she cried, kissing him. "I'm so glad you're OK. That was scary but you were very brave. I love you so much."

Holding his wife and baby close, Peter looked to the doctors. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Just doing our job," Frank said. "The little guy's got no more surgeries after this, so if he keeps improving, everything should turn out OK."

"Thank you," Olivia said emphatically. Feeling Peter's gentle hand on his head, Liam cried and reached for his father. "Peter, you should hold him too," she laughed through her tears. "He wants his Daddy."

Pushing his nerves aside, Peter took his son's frail and battered body gently in his arms, kissing him. "I'm so proud of you, buddy. You're tough like your Mom. You're gonna do big things one day, I know it."

Olivia looked on them proudly, tears of relief and joy streaming down her face. "He made it," she whispered. Peter laughed joyfully at those words and kissed her in response, their little hero between them.

He made it.

**Please, please review. It was harder for me to write than it was for you to read : )**


	25. Author's Note

Hey, y'all, some people have told me they've had trouble putting reviews up on this chapter because I posted it twice. I'd still love to hear what you though about last chapter, so if you have any reviews please leave them here.

Thank you for reading, love you guys : D


	26. Lucky

**References: "You feel good" (Unleashed), "keep the rest of us safe" (6:02am EST), "sizing up the world" (6:02am EST), "tough mother" (No-Brainer), "all you need to do is love him" (Bloodline)**

There was no time of day when Peter felt luckier than he felt in the morning. Most days Olivia would be up at the crack of dawn doing sit-ups, but every now and then Peter would wake up long before his wife. Things had always been hard for them, no doubt, but mornings like these reminded him to be grateful for the simple things – namely the fact that he had Olivia in his life (although the story of that was far from simple). He'd watch the rise and fall of her chest against his, trace constellations between the freckles on her back, bury his nose in her hair. The simple things.

The morning light tracked down Olivia's back at a snail's pace, and Peter couldn't resist letting his fingertips trace the same path, his wedding ring glistening in the sun. He was glad to have moments like these to step back and breathe and remember what he still had. The past two months since Liam's birth had been rough, between the surgeries and recovery and living in the hospital. Peter had noticed so many changes in Olivia since it all happened. She was still the headstrong, earnest, determined woman he'd always known. She'd even talked Broyles into letting her do paperwork from the hospital so she didn't get left behind with the pattern cases. But Liam had changed her immensely. Her love for him was all-consuming, sweetly affectionate and fiercely protective. She hadn't suddenly turned all domestic and housewifey (which he was glad would never happen), but there was no doubt she adored this boy.

Peter would catch her in quiet moments at the end of a long night, just watching him sleep. In these moments, she'd smile faintly, but it wouldn't quite reach her eyes. Peter missed seeing her smile the way she used to when they were together – fearlessly, like nothing could ever ruin her joy as long as he was with her. But months – let's face it, years – of happy endings gone wrong had taught her to lose faith in the future. When the doctors said Liam was improving, she couldn't trust it. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Yes, he missed her old smile, but to him she was still perfect – beautiful, intense, brave, selfless. Even in its worst moments, parenthood had brought out the best in her. She was the woman he fell in love with as a wayward youth five years ago and so much more. It blew his mind, how far they'd come. Watching her with Liam felt like a miracle.

Liam and 'Livia': the two great loves of his heart.

As he thumbed through her hair, his arms encircling her, she started to wake. "Peter?" His name was a quiet breath, still heavy with sleep. She closed her eyes again, lulled into relaxation by the steady pulse of his heart under her cheek, strong and potent.

"Hey." He brushed his fingers down her spine and traced a shape on the small of her back underneath her pyjama shirt. She sighed in response.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"About 8."

As she snuggled closer to him, he felt her smile against his skin. "You feel good."

He chuckled. "So do you." He traced the pad of his thumb over the freckles on her face, tilting her chin up for a lazy 'good morning' kiss. She deepened the kiss, winding her fingers through his hair and rolling onto her back so he hovered over her. It wasn't long before he was peppering kisses down her neck, his stubble scraping her skin with a delicious friction, causing a laugh to bubble up from her throat.

"Peter," she giggled, shivering at his touch. "We're gonna be late…"

"For what?" he breathed against her skin, kissing lower and lower still.

She tugged on his hair lightly, making him look at her. "We're supposed to meet with Frank this morning about Liam's latest test results. Remember?"

"Right. Of course."

"Sorry to disappoint," she chuckled.

"You didn't," he replied, kissing her once, soundly, before getting out of bed.

* * *

><p>The walked down to Frank's office, but not before stopping by the NICU to say good morning to Liam first. He was awake in his bed when they got there, peacefully sucking on the ears of a stuffed toy bunny he'd been given by someone. They'd lost track of who'd given him which toys by now, except Walter's. The old man had bought him lots of dinosaur toys, intent on giving Liam an interest in palaeontology throughout his childhood. They were starting to piece things together with Walter, though their relationship was still rocky. They knew there was no way Walter could have foreseen what would happen to Liam as a result of him saving Peter's life, but the anger was still there. They didn't want to blame Walter, but often, in the worst of times, they just had to blame <em>somebody<em>. But as Liam improved, much of that anger released, reminding them Liam deserved a grandparent in his life.

The nurses said Liam had just about slept through the night, which was wonderful. He didn't do that often, so it was good to know. They could tell he looked rested, not as fussy as he usually was in the mornings. They fed him and bathed him, which was an often distressing process for Liam. For a baby born into water, he really hated the stuff. But people told them that was common, so they didn't worry. The hospital really encouraged parents to take care of their own babies so they weren't totally lost when they left. But they always had the nurses' help when they needed it.

When he was done, they dressed him and kissed him goodbye before leaving the NICU to go and see Frank. He was no longer "Dr Stanton" to them. By now he wasn't just their baby's surgeon, but a dear friend and pillar of support.

"He's doing great," Frank said. "I know Liam's been here for two months and it's been a hard time for you, so I'm just going to cut to the chase. You can take him home."

"Oh my God…" Olivia laughed out of shock and joy. "Really?"

"Yep. He's performed really well on all his tests, the nurses say you're both confident when taking care of him, and you've taken all the compulsory first-aid classes. You're good to go."

"You mean like, today?" Peter asked.

"If you want, we can keep him a couple more days while you get things organised, but I don't see why he can't go home today. We just need the paediatrician to give him one last visit and sign off on the discharge, then he's all yours. It shouldn't take more than an hour or two."

"Wow," Olivia breathed. "Thank you so much. We'll definitely take him home today."

"Excellent. I'll get everything organised."

Olivia and Peter walked back to their room. Olivia wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, laughing. "Oh my God. I can't believe we get to take him home today."

"We're taking him home today!" Peter repeated joyfully. Then his face went blank. "Oh shit. We're taking him home today."

"What's wrong?"

"Livia… Do you think we're ready? I know he's better now and we've been looking after him ourselves here but we've always had the nurses' help. What if we don't know what we're doing? Are we even prepared for this?"

Olivia ran a hand through her hair. "Honestly, I don't care if we are or not. I just don't want him to spend another minute in his place. He can't stay here forever, and the nurses have taught us well. If we ever need help, we can ask Rachael or Charlie. OK? We'll figure it out." She hooked her arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose with hers. "Don't be scared. You're a wonderful father, Peter. You'll be fine."

He chuckled softly at how Olivia always knew what to say to make him feel better. She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. "OK. We'll take him home," he said, letting himself smile back and kiss her soundly.

* * *

><p>The next two hours went sinfully slowly. They'd packed their belongings and called their friends to let them know the good news. Rachael was coming to pick them up. When Frank announced Liam could be discharged, Olivia felt so much relief she could have cried. "Here that, little one?" she asked Liam, holding him close and kissing his cheek. "You get to go home!"<p>

Overjoyed, Peter shook Frank's hand. "Thank you so much for everything you've done. I can't tell you what it means to us that you saved our son's life."

"Just doing my job," he said humbly. He stepped forward and shook Olivia's hand and then Liam's, making the little boy giggle. "You were a wonderful patient, Liam. You handled those surgeries like a champ. We'll miss you in here but don't come back anytime soon, OK?"

"I don't know how you do this job," Olivia said to him. "Working with sick kids every day. I couldn't do it."

"Days like these make it worth it," he replied. "Kids are so resilient. When you hold a preemie who weighs less than a pound in your hands, it's heartbreaking, but seeing them grow and recover and survive surgery is just amazing. But to be honest I probably couldn't do your job," he laughed. "I think FBI counter-terrorism work sounds pretty scary. I'm just glad we could help keep your baby safe so now you can go back to work and keep the rest of us safe."

The nurses gave them a bag of gifts to take home. During Liam's time in the NICU, they'd been making little keepsakes, like photos and painted prints of his hands and feet. They also gave him a teddy bear, his NICU blanket with his name on it, his beanie, and a bunch of other things from his time there. Peter and Olivia were so appreciative of everything those nurses had done for them. They'd taught them how to care for their son, brought them coffee on late nights at his bedside and comforted them when things got hard. They would always be grateful.

When Rachael came to pick them up, they collected the last of their things and dressed Liam up in a warm coat and beanie ready to go outside. Stepping out of the front door of the hospital with their baby was an incredible feeling. Olivia, Rachael and Peter laughed at the way Liam wouldn't stay still, always wriggling around and trying to get a better view of the outside world. He'd never been out in the sunlight before, or felt the wind on his face. It was a beautiful March morning, with a clear sky and frost and dead leaves on the ground. The cold seemed to bother him and he started fussing, but once they got him in the car he was alright.

As Olivia buckled him into his car seat, she couldn't help but laugh. "Look at him kind of sizing up the world."

"He's alert, that one," Rachael agreed.

Olivia leaned back in her seat while Rachael drove, Liam in his car seat next to her, playing with his feet. He'd only just recently discovered that he had feet and couldn't stop holding onto them ever since. "I can't believe we're out of there," she breathed.

"You must be so relieved," Rachael said. "You know that Greg and I have been looking after your apartment for you, and I got Greg to drop by some groceries for you this morning, so you should be alright."

"Thanks so much, Rach. You didn't have to do that."

"It was no trouble. You guys have had enough on your plate."

"We really appreciate your help," Peter said. He turned around in the front-passenger seat to look back at Olivia. "How's he going back there?"

"He's fine," she said. "I thought he'd freak out or something but he's really calm."

"He's always been a calm baby," Rachael said. "You're lucky that way. Ella used to cry over everything."

"You taught her well, Rach. Ella's a sweetheart," Olivia said. "I'm glad Liam has her as a cousin."

"She's obsessed with him," Rachael laughed. "He's all she talks about. She wanted to come with me to pick you up but she had to go to preschool."

"You could have given her the day off."

"No, she needs to go. She'll be starting kindergarten next year."

Olivia chuckled. "You're a tough mother."

"Yeah and you're a giant softie at heart," Rachael laughed. "Without your badge and your gun, you're all hugs. Liam's gonna be spoiled to death, I can tell."

Olivia looked down at her little hero and smiled to herself. "He deserves it."

* * *

><p>They reached the house and unpacked all their stuff, bringing Liam inside. "This is your home," Peter said as he carried him in. "No more hospitals for you, tough guy."<p>

While Rachael and Olivia sorted out stuff in the kitchen, he carried Liam to the room they had prepared for him. "Look, Liam," he said. "Isn't this nicer than where you used to live? Mommy spent a lot of time painting this for you."

The boy lifted his tired head to gaze curiously at the mural on the wall. Balling his hands into tiny fists, he yawned and collapsed against Peter's chest. "OK, Daddy gets that you're tired," Peter laughed. "You've had a big day."

Peter changed him into something more comfortable and put him in his cot with his toys. An enormous sense of relief flooded his heart as he looked down on his little boy. No more machines. No more wires. No more drab white walls and bustling nurses. No more nightmares of shoebox-sized coffins. Just home where they belonged.

Liam's eyelids started to droop as Peter rocked him slowly, the tip of his finger brushing over the boy's features. Peter smiled to himself. "You look more and more like your mother every day," he whispered.

Once Liam was soundly asleep, he kissed his son's forehead and drew the blankets tighter around him. Worries about how to raise Liam ran through his head at full velocity, but he wasn't afraid. He didn't know how to do all this, but he knew he would find a way. That was what it meant to be a father.

Outside, Olivia and Rachael were putting away things from the hospital. "You OK?" Rachael asked, noticing something off about her sister.

"Yeah," Olivia replied, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno, you just seem kind of quiet."

Olivia ran a hand through her hair, sighing. "It's just something Peter said, before we left the hospital. He just… he wasn't sure whether or not we were prepared to bring Liam home. And at first I was so excited about getting him out of the NICU that I didn't care, but now…"

"Liv…" Rachael said, stepping closer and hugging her sister. "You guys are wonderful parents, and you're gonna be fine. But if you ever need help we're all here."

"I know, but… As soon as I found out he was sick, all I did was think about surgeries and tests and the cost of it all and whether or not we'd lose him. I never actually spent any time thinking about being a mom. Now I just… I don't know if I'm ready."

Rachael smiled softly. "Honey, you don't need to think about being a mom. You've been doing that for two months already. And as for him being home… To tell you the truth, all you need to do is love him. And you can figure out the rest as you go on."

"I'm gonna need your help," Olivia confessed.

Rachael laughed. "I hope so."

* * *

><p>When Rachael left, Olivia and Peter continued to get settled. It felt so good to be back in their home, with their own bed and fresh clothes. Olivia treaded the corridors towards Liam's room, almost instinctively. It was like she was drawn to him, even when she knew he was safe and sound. Leaning against the door frame, she watched him sleep, his eyelids fluttering with dreams. It frightened her sometimes, how much she had fallen in love with him. She hadn't expected it to have such a hold on her, but it did. The fact that she was responsible for his entire future was daunting, but on the other hand she knew without a doubt that she'd cross universes to keep him safe.<p>

But the protectiveness wasn't what shocked her about being a mother – after all, she'd always been protective of Rachael and Ella. She wasn't shocked by her pride in him either. What shocked her was the quiet moments like these, when she could be content just watching him for hours. She was fascinated by his every movement, his curious glances, the milky scent of his skin, the way his brow would furrow like Peter's as he slept. The tiniest details of his body and behaviour captivated her. And it was shocking. To anyone else, he was just a cute baby, but to her, he was, to put it simply, the world.

Olivia felt two strong arms encircle her waist. "You're thinking too hard again," Peter whispered, kissing her temple. "What's going through that big brain of yours, Livia?"

She smiled, letting herself lean back against him. "Nothing. I'm just watching him."

Peter chuckled. "Rachael was right. You are a giant softie at heart."

"Can you blame me? He's beautiful."

Peter nodded earnestly. "We're very lucky."

That brought tears to Olivia's eyes.

Peter noticed her let out a shaky breath. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she said, but he knew better.

"Livia…"

"It's nothing… You just got me thinking about what it would have been like if we'd lost him. You're right. We're very lucky. I just love him so much, and I'm responsible for him. I don't know what I'd do if something hap-"

"Livia, look at him," Peter said, cutting her off gently. "He's fine. He's beautiful and he's healthy and he's fine. I know the past two months have been a nightmare, but it's over now. He's gonna be alright."

Olivia knew he was right, despite the fears that kept nudging at her. Wordlessly thanking her husband for his reassurance, she twisted her head back to give him a kiss.

"What was that for?"

"Everything. All your support. But most of all for giving him to me."

That made Peter laugh. "Come on, I can't take any credit for that! I was just there for the fun part. You had to do all the hard work with the throwing up and the blood and guts and everything."

"True," she chuckled, grimacing at the memory. "But I still couldn't have done it without you."

"Well then, it was my pleasure. And thank you for going through all that to bring our little boy into the world – without meds. You're officially tougher than half the guys in the marines, congratulations."

She smiled to herself, watching her son again. "He was worth it."

Peter nodded, holding her tight as he watched his son sleep. "It's kind of hard to believe that we all used to be that small," he said.

"Yeah." Olivia checked her watch. "He just went to sleep again, so we have a good three hours until he wakes up."

"In that case," he said, nuzzling her shoulder. "We should go and relax. Dinner's almost ready, come on."

He started to walk away but Olivia found herself stuck at the door. Peter took her hand. "Livia, he's alright."

Glancing back at her son, she decided to accept this and go with her husband back to the kitchen to finish dinner. She dug a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. "Remember when Astrid gave us this? We said we'd drink it the night we brought him home."

Peter chuckled. "I actually forgot all about it. But it's a good way to celebrate."

They poured themselves a glass each and toasted to family. After dinner they spent a quiet night in their favourite spot by the fire, her sitting on the rug between his knees, him holding her lovingly to his chest as they drank champagne and talked and laughed and kissed.

"I miss this," Olivia said after a while. "I miss us. Spending time together and going out like we used to. For the last two months we've been so focused on trying to keep our son alive that everything else kind of fell away."

"I know, sweetheart," he said regrettably. "But things are easier now. We'll get the hang of this. And once we're ready to leave Liam with Astrid or whoever for a whole night, then I'd love to start taking you on dates again."

He kissed her shoulder and she sighed at the sensation. "That sounds nice."

She thought of something that made her laugh to herself.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on…"

She grinned. "OK, this is gonna sound really stupid, but do you remember how we met?"

He put on an expression of deep concentration. "No… No I don't think I can recall that…" he joked.

She slapped him playfully.

"Of course I do," he laughed. "I sold you a drink at the Whitehorse on your first night in Quantico. And we talked for like 30 seconds and that was it. John was next to you in line and you kept teasing each other about failing the Academy. I remember thinking that you were a very confident, and very beautiful girl – but also ambitious and you didn't take shit from anybody."

Olivia laughed. "I remember not liking you that much straight off. You called me 'honey'."

"To be fair, you hadn't told me your name yet."

"True. What else do you remember?"

"You came back a few days later. The bar was pretty much empty so we actually got to talk a bit. You were sad. The Academy was harder than you thought and you missed home. And you were worried about your sister being at college by herself."

"So you made me a Red Russian to cheer me up. My first one."

"I did, too. I'd forgotten that part. I haven't had one of those in years."

"Good. They're disgusting."

"Hey, you were downing like three a night back then!"

She rolled her eyes. "It was college. Come on, what else?"

"We talked about your dream job in the FBI and stuff like that. You seemed really cool. You had this confidence – like you knew exactly who you were. I didn't have that then – I was still wandering the world trying to find myself. It was so intriguing to me. Then you mentioned a boyfriend and I was like 'Damn it!'" he laughed, still clinging to her. "So we became friends. And a few months later we all had that birthday party for you on the roof and you were wearing that black dress. We were the last two up there, so we had some wine…"

"And then I kissed you."

"And then you kissed me. I remember that like yesterday. It's a good five years ago now."

"I miss that bar," Olivia said pensively. "I wonder if it's still there."

"Yeah. What made you think of all that?"

"I just think it's funny how far we've come," she said. "When I first walked into your bar that night, did you ever imagine we'd end up here? Married, with a kid?"

He laughed. "No. Never. But I'm really glad we did."

"Me too."

He used a single finger to tip her chin in his direction, smiling as the space between their lips shrunk down to nothing.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Olivia opened her eyes and realised she and Peter must have fallen asleep. The fire was only a glow of embers now, and the rug on the floor had been placed over her as a blanket. The rest of the night came back to her in bits and pieces - the heat of Peter's body over hers, the way the firelight had flickered against their skin, the initial nervousness, the shivering shadows on the rug, her husband's glances and kisses full of tenderness and apology and hesitation and hunger.<p>

It had been the first time they'd made love since before Liam was born. The doctors had said to wait six to eight weeks for Olivia to heal and it had been eight, but Peter had still been apprehensive. At one point during the night, Peter had allowed his forehead to fall gently against hers, a thumb stroking her cheek. "Am I hurting you?" he'd asked. Or maybe it was, "Are you OK?" She couldn't remember which. In all honesty, it had been a little uncomfortable initially, but nothing she couldn't get over. It was better than she had expected the first time back to be. Really good, even.

But it wasn't the physical pleasure she had missed most – it was the emotional whirlwind, the overwhelming proximity and sense of belonging, the murmured 'I love you's in the dark. She'd been self-conscious at the start. She still had weight to lose (although the stress in the hospital had lost most of it for her), and she worried about the effect giving birth had had on her body. But Peter had taken this in his stride, whispering words of adoration against her skin. The only sad point in the night was when they realised they needed to be careful, deciding that they couldn't afford to risk becoming pregnant again so soon. Not after almost losing their son. No. It was far too soon.

Afterwards they'd laid by the fireplace nose to nose, whispering, completely in love. Olivia smiled at the memory. She loved her son, but it was wonderful to spend some time with her husband that was just about the two of them. With all that had happened recently, they hadn't done it enough.

Finding herself unable to get back to sleep, Olivia looked around at the clothes still on the floor and tossed on Peter's shirt, going looking for him. She found him in their bedroom, kneeling by the piano he had practically built with his own two hands. "Did Liam wake you?" she asked, her voice still tired from sleep.

"No, I just couldn't sleep."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing much," he said.

That didn't convince her, but as he packed away his tools, it didn't take her long to realise what he'd done. On the wooden upper panel on the piano, where he'd engraved her name years ago, he'd also carved their son's name – the L, the I, the A and finally the M in beautiful cursive. She smiled, letting her fingertips trace the grooves. "Thank you, Peter," she said. "This is really sweet."

He shrugged with a modest smile and gave her a kiss. "Did I wake you up?"

"No. I guess both of us are just used to being up all night."

As if on cue, Liam started crying. They laughed. "Stay. I'll go get him," Olivia said, heading to Liam's room. His cries were shrill and full of fear as he reached out to her. "Shhh, sweetheart," she murmured as she checked him over. "What's wrong, beautiful boy?"

It didn't take her long to figure out he just wanted some company. The nurses had warned them he would be restless on his first night home. The NICU had been full of people, with bright lights and a lot of noise compared to this dark, quiet, strange new room he was now living in all alone. He just wasn't used to it. Wrapping him tighter in a blanket, she held him close to calm him down. "I'm sorry, little one," she whispered. "I know it's scary being in here all by yourself. It's OK. You're not alone."

He got a little quieter, clutching tightly at her skin as he buried his face against her neck.

"Shhhh, it's alright..." she whispered, kissing his head as he whimpered softly. "You'll like it here soon, I promise. Let's go see Daddy, OK?"

She carried him back down the hall to where Peter was still at the piano and sat beside him. "Is he OK?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, he's just a bit restless. Getting used to the apartment and everything," she said, her baby finally quiet against her. He was playing with strands of her hair now, making little noises as he amused himself. "I think he woke up and just freaked out, being alone in the dark and everything. All he's ever known is the NICU."

Peter nodded in understanding, absentmindedly fingering a couple of keys. The baby lifted his tired head curiously and Olivia smiled to herself. "Liam, Daddy used to play for us all the time when you were just a little peanut in my tummy. He even wrote a special song for you."

Peter moved up a few octaves to play the gentle lullaby he had written for his son. Soon enough Liam's eyelids began to droop and he was fast asleep in his mother's arms.

"I feel like an idiot," Olivia admitted, caressing Liam's hair. "I should have put one of my shirts in his cot so he could smell me and go back to sleep."

"Livia, don't stress. I forgot as well. It's OK. We'll get the hang of this," he assured her, kissing her. "How about we let him sleep with us tonight?"

"Is that safe?"

"It is if you do it right. One of the nurses ran me through it." He took the baby from her. Liam stirred a little, starting to wake up again. "Go back to sleep, buddy," Peter whispered, rubbing the little boy's back. "We know you're a little shaken up tonight so you can sleep with us, but tomorrow you're going back to your room, mister."

Liam hummed and snuggled against his Daddy. Looking down on him, Peter felt his heart melt. Peter lay on his back with Liam tucked gently under his arm beside him, and Olivia lying against his chest with her arm draped over her husband and son. Before she let herself drift off, Olivia watched the two of them sleep, cuddled together. The sight made her smile. The Bishop boys never failed to charm her when they were apart, but together they were something else.

She snuggled closer to her sleeping husband, wondering what she ever did to get so lucky. Their marriage wasn't perfect. Their work was terrifying, the traumas that came with it were unimaginable, and Liam's life had begun with a rocky start. There would surely be more challenges ahead. But in that moment, she just didn't care. All she felt, was lucky. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes and letting sleep take her, and for the first time ever, the family of three slept together peacefully until morning.

**Please review! Only a few more chaps to go until the end of the trilogy!**


	27. Christmas

**References: "the world we want" (Subject 13)**

**December, 2007**

The dusk burned down to night as police cars and Christmas lights illuminated the street. Olivia breathed into her hands, rubbing them together. Snow drizzled down from the darkening sky, the ice cold air leaving a metallic taste on her tongue.

"Hey," said Peter, approaching her.

"What time is it?"

"About 6." He handed her a coffee. "You OK?"

Olivia forced a wry smile, taking a sip. "I'm just wondering if we're terrible parents."

"Livia…" he started, running a hand down his face. "We do the best we can."

"Our best has to be better than this," she muttered. "It has to be. It's Christmas Eve and we're working. In another city. And if this raid doesn't go well, Broyles won't let any of us go home in time for tomorrow." She dug her foot into the snow, trying to vent some of her frustration. "Our kid's first Christmas," she scoffed. "And we're in fucking New Jersey."

"We'll get home in time for tomorrow," Peter said. "I'm sure we will."

"You don't know that." She tried to cross her arms over her bullet-proof vest to keep herself warm. "His first birthday's in a month. Are we going to miss that too?"

"Olivia, he knows we love him. Most nights, we can come home to him. It's only in big cases like this that we have to go out of our state, and when we do it's worth it. We only do this so we can keep our country and our boy safe. But we manage, Olivia. Most of the time. When we're at work, we give work 100%, and when we're at home, we give him 100%. It's all we can do."

"It's not enough."

He sighed. "I know."

Charlie and Lincoln approached them. Charlie looked even more depressed than they did. Of course. He missed his daughter. "You ready?" he asked.

They just nodded, downing the rest of their coffees and getting into the raid truck.

* * *

><p>Olivia was running.<p>

Her target's feet pounded the icy pavement, showing no signs of tiring as if he was fuelled by her will to catch him. The world passed by them in a blur – police sirens echoed down the street, cops shouted to each other, mothers gathered children into their houses for fear of them being caught in the crossfire. Olivia and Steig hurtled up fire escape stairs, through apartments, leaving bystanders frantic in the wake of their tornado. But Olivia didn't care. She was just running, running, her target slipping, slipping, as her chest clamped tight and her heart pumped battery acid.

Somehow they ended up on the roof, tripping on the ice as they clambered from building to building. Steig reached the edge of a rooftop and stopped dead. There was no where to go. A flicker of pride graced Olivia – she'd caught him.

But then he jumped. She couldn't even see where he jumped to, but it didn't matter. Without even thinking, she took that last step off the edge and plunged herself into a freefall, not even realising she had jumped until she felt her body slam into the wall of the opposite building. A sharp pain shot up through her leg, crippling her for a second. It took her a moment to compose herself, realising her feet were in fact on the ground. And then she was running again.

But before she could even reach Steig, Peter came from around the corner and tackled him, the two of them tumbling to the ice in a whirlwind of punches and scrappy tugs on clothes. Panting, Olivia slowed and jogged over to them, helping Peter to handcuff the son of a bitch. A couple of other agents joined them and took him away to be detained. They could question him after Christmas.

"I had him," Olivia asserted, frustrated that she'd run all that way only to have Peter take him down. "I was close."

Peter smirked. "Sure you were," he laughed. "Face it, you would have been lost without me."

She punched him in the shoulder. Playfully, but not all that lightly.

"Ow!" he laughed, nudging her back. "Seriously though, nice Spiderman jump up there. You could have broken your leg or something."

Registering the pain in her body from hitting the wall, she nodded. "I don't think it's broken," she said, looking down at her left leg. "But it's really starting to kill."

"Let me see," he said. He helped her limp over to one of the trucks and sat her down, grabbing a first aid kit. Gently pulling off her shoe, he found that her ankle was already becoming swollen and bruised. "Ouch, hun," he winced. "That looks like a bad one."

She held back a whimper as he started checking it out, the pain stinging. "Will I live?" she joked, forcing a smile.

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "Just a sprain. But Livia, you really should -"

"…be more careful. I know." She'd heard his lecture a hundred times before. Be careful. Don't run off like that. You could have been killed. We have a kid now, you can't do that anymore. All that stuff. She ran a hand through her hair, groaning as he strapped up her ankle, the pain really starting to set in.

"There," he said, sitting beside her. "All done."

"Thanks."

Broyles approached them. "You alright, Dunham?"

"Yes, sir. Just a sprained ankle."

"Good work, both of you. We just need to return the raid equipment back to HQ and then I'm putting everyone on a jet back to Boston."

"Tonight?" Peter asked hopefully.

Broyles gave him a faint, knowing smile. That man never smiled. "Yes, Bishop, tonight. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, sir. Thank you."

They called Rachael from the plane to say they'd be home for Christmas Day. She said she would wait up for them so they could pick up Liam from her house, but they didn't want to trouble her and agreed to pick him up in the morning. They finally arrived back in Boston at 1:56am on Christmas Day, and went straight home to bed.

"Told you we'd make it," Peter teased right before they went to sleep. Olivia didn't even have the energy to respond.

* * *

><p>First thing in the morning, they drove to Rachael's house to pick up their son. Rachael answered the door still in her pyjamas. "Hey guys!" she said, hugging them. "Merry Christmas."<p>

"Merry Christmas, Rach," Olivia replied. "Thank you so much for looking after Liam for us. I'm sorry we had to leave him with you, it's just…"

"It's alright, Liv," Rachael said as they walked inside. "I know your jobs are important. If you guys are out there stopping terrorist attacks or whatever, the least we can do is watch your son for a few days."

"I hope he didn't give you too much trouble," Peter said.

"Not at all. But he missed you."

Peter and Olivia knew what Rachael meant by that. She meant that he'd had trouble sleeping, that he'd cry for them at night like he always did when they went away. The guilt they felt was unshakeable.

They found Liam and Ella playing in the living room, Greg watching over them. Ella hurtled towards them at full force to hug them, Liam shuffling over close behind. He'd only just started walking on his own about a month ago. Peter scooped him up. "Hey buddy!" he greeted, smiling brightly and kissing his son. "Merry Christmas!"

"Dada!" Liam exclaimed, smiling back and pressing his little hands against his Daddy's face, giggling. Peter ran a hand through his son's shaggy blonde hair, admiring how beautiful he was and realising again just how much he loved this boy.

"Go on, give your mom a hug. She missed you," Peter laughed, passing Liam to Olivia.

She held him close, soaking in his smell and the warmth of his skin. "I thought we were gonna miss out on Christmas with you, little one," she murmured, kissing his hair. "I'm really glad we didn't. I'm sorry we had to go away but we thought of you all the time. We love you so much…"

They didn't stay long. Both families were having Christmas dinner and Sonya and Charlie's house that night anyway. Peter and Olivia took their son home and spent the day with him, opening presents. The afternoon was all simple moments by the fire – laughter and playing with Liam. He loved his toys but spent most of his time playing with the boxes and wrapping paper. In quieter moments he'd somehow find a way to climb onto the couch (that boy got everywhere) and press his hands against the window behind it, patiently waiting for it to stop snowing so he could play outside. No such luck – it was a blizzard all day.

Peter built Liam a giant fort out of cardboard boxes that he later collapsed and fell asleep in. Olivia lay with Peter on the couch, watching their son sleep surrounded by toys.

"How's your ankle?" Peter asked, nuzzling her shoulder a little.

"A lot better," she murmured, closing her eyes and snuggling against him. They'd learned that if Liam slept, they should rest too. He was a handful once he was awake. "Can you believe he's almost one already?"

"He grows up too fast, that kid," Peter laughed sleepily.

Olivia sighed. "I would have been so upset if we'd missed this."

"I know. Me too. But like I said, Livia, we do the best we can." He pulled her close, nuzzling her hair with his nose, taking in the familiar floral smell. "Besides, they love having him there. Especially Ella, she adores him."

Olivia smiled softly. "She's a sweet little girl."

Peter paused for a moment, thinking back to the times when they'd discussed having a little girl of their own. "You know, hun…" he said tentatively. "If you wanted to reconsider…"

She shifted to face him. Gently let her fingertips caress his face. Sighed. "I can't say that I don't think about it…" she admitted. "And that I don't wish things were different. I love Liam, but balancing family life with our job is hard. Anyone can look after a kid, but Peter, we're his _parents_. We're supposed to be there for him through everything and we're not."

"That's not entirely true," Peter said. "Most cases that come to our office are based in Massachusetts and New York, so if we do travel we can usually get back that night or the next day. Most of the time, we're here for him every day. It's not like we're hardly raising him, Olivia."

"I know. But last night kind of freaked me out."

"That's fair," Peter reasoned. "It freaked me out too. We missed our kid's first Christmas Eve. Don't get me wrong, I'm guilty about that, but we can't change it. We're here now, the country's safe, our boy's happy. We get Christmas Day with him. I just want to feel grateful."

Olivia nodded, taking pause. "I know you still want to try for a girl," she murmured. "I just don't know if we can handle it. Our jobs are insane, and Liam spent all that time in the hospital, and we still don't know what Cortexiphan's done to him yet. It's just too complicated."

"Honey, it's you and me," Peter laughed. "It's always going to be complicated. But we can't let that get in the way of us having the things we want."

"I'm just wondering if it's worth it."

"Was Liam worth everything we went through?"

She didn't even need to answer that.

"Livia, if we decide it's what we want, then we'll find a way to make it work."

She sighed. "I just don't feel like we could handle another kid."

"That's OK," Peter said. "I'm not asking you to say yes - I just want you to think about it. I know it's scary, but we have all the time in the world. And things could get better. So I still think we'll have another kid."

"I hope you're right."

"In fact, I think we're gonna have several. Two, maybe three. A little tribe of Bishops."

Olivia laughed, the feeling in her chest bittersweet. That sounded amazing, but their life wasn't a fairytale. If only the world wasn't starting to fall to pieces around them. If only terrorists would stop pushing science beyond its limits. If only their need to keep the country safe didn't outweigh the need to spend a simple night with their son.

If only.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, Olivia was in the kitchen making dessert to take to Christmas dinner that night when she heard the faint pitter-patter of Liam's feet coming towards her. She knew the smell of food would make him come running – he was like his Grandpa that way. She felt a little tug on her jeans. "Mama," Liam giggled, grinning up at her.<p>

"Hi, beautiful boy." She smiled, running a hand through his hair. "You want to help me make some cakes?"

Standing on his tippy toes, he tried to reach for the bowls full of cake ingredients on the counter. She couldn't help but laugh a little at his efforts. He tried so hard but he was just too short. Such a determined boy. Peter always said he got that from her.

"Not yet, little one," she told him. "We have to bake everything first, then you can lick the bowl, OK?"

Liam whined a little in protest, but Olivia picked him up and sat him in a chair so he could help, which satisfied him. Mostly he just liked to make a mess, and making cakes was a perfect opportunity for him to do that. By that afternoon, they'd produced a red velvet cake for the grown-ups, a set of rainbow-coloured marble cupcakes for the little ones, and one very messy but delighted 11-month-old boy.

They sat and licked the bowls afterwards, pleased with their success. When Peter joined them, the sight made him laugh. "We probably shouldn't le him eat that," he chuckled, seeing them covered in flour and icing and unknown sticky things. "He's gonna be all hopped up on sugar now," he told Olivia.

She rolled her eyes. "Give the poor kid a break. It's Christmas."

"Fair enough," he laughed, sitting at the kitchen table with them and wiping some cake mix from a bowl with his finger and popping it in his mouth. "Mmm, yum…"

"Um," Liam mimicked, trying to express that he also found the bowls tasty. Peter smiled at his son's attempts to learn new words. So far he could say "Dada", "Mama", "Lu" for Lucy, and "Lala" for Ella, but no real words yet. Most of what he said was still gibberish. Even so, they had been told he was a fast talker for his age. Olivia was sure he'd grow up to be a brainiac like his Daddy.

"Did you finish that report for Broyles?" Olivia asked him, knowing he'd been working while they were making cakes.

"Yeah, it's done. He said because we did the paperwork today we can have tomorrow off as well."

"Great," she said, kissing him. "Thanks for doing that."

"No worries."

"I can't even remember the last time we had a whole two days to just spend time with him."

"Neither can I," Peter replied.

Olivia looked at Liam again, who was happily licking a bowl. He had flour through his hair and icing all over his hands and face. "He needs a bath," she laughed. "I'll take care of that if you clean up the kitchen?"

"Deal."

"Come on, mister. Bath time," Olivia said, scooping up her wriggling son and carrying him to the bathroom. He whined and shook his head, struggling to free himself from her grasp. He could get a little restless when it came to baths and usually didn't like them, though he was getting better at it all. When they first brought him home, he'd scream and scream during his baths, but he'd calmed down considerably since then. "Look at you," Olivia laughed, setting him down by the bathtub as she turned the water on. "While I think you're very cute when you're all messy, we're going to Lucy's house tonight so you need to look nice. Come on, arms up."

She peeled his shirt off his body, her breath catching for a moment when she saw the surgical scar on his chest from his heart operation. It didn't matter that she saw that scar every day – it still brought out all those horrible thoughts of him being hooked up to machines, tubes down his throat, unable to eat or breathe. Liam was too young to be self-conscious about his scar, and Peter tried to assure her that he would probably grow up to think it was cool, but thoughts of his illness continued to make both of them sick to their stomachs. Even though he'd been relatively healthy since leaving the hospital, they had never truly let go of that time. Whenever he was the slightest bit sick, they assumed the worst and rushed to the hospital. But each time Frank assured them he was doing very well. He'd been a little behind in his physical development initially, a slow crawler, but he'd made up for that in recent months. Now they couldn't stop him running off all over the place.

Gently running her fingertips over his chest, she tried to tell herself that the scar should be a reminder of how far he'd come. He wasn't that vulnerable little baby in the incubator anymore. He was healthy now, walking and talking, getting stronger every day. Swallowing thickly, she forced a small smile before kissing him. "I'm so lucky to have you, beautiful boy. I love you so much." Liam squirmed a little at her kisses, making her laugh.

Liam was bathed and changed, and before long he was in the height of his sugar high, running in circles in the living room, giggling hysterically, until he eventually crawled back inside his box fort and fell asleep. Watching him, Peter and Olivia wished his life could stay this simple forever. But eventually he would grow up and face the horrors of the world that they worked so hard to protect him from, and there was nothing that could be done about that.

* * *

><p>Christmas dinner at the Francis house was a welcome celebration after a week's hard work. Charlie's family, Peter and Olivia's family, Rachael's family, Walter, Astrid and Lincoln spent the night eating, laughing, giving each other presents and watching over the kids as they played. Mostly they were just glad to be with their family and friends on Christmas day, instead of working back in New Jersey.<p>

Everyone was tired but happy. Charlie still had his arm in a sling after having fallen chasing Steig on the icy street, but he still had a good time. Lucy was ecstatic to see him home for Christmas, and he was grateful to be home safe with his "cheeky monkey" and his wife. Lincoln and Astrid were glad to be back together after working in separate cities for the week, since Astrid had to stay with Walter in the lab. Liam was fascinated by Astrid's frizzy hair, and she was gracious as always and let him play with it as much as he wanted. Walter also spent a lot of time playing with the children, telling them stories that he thought were very exciting, though they didn't seem to think so. At least Walter restricted himself to telling boring detective stories as opposed to tales of death-by-science that would likely give them nightmares.

Halfway through the night, Peter caught Olivia watching Ella and Lucy play with her son. Ella was five now, and Lucy was about two and a half – they both simply adored Liam. Peter watched Olivia watching the kids, seeing the wheels turn in her head. He could tell what she was thinking about. He was thinking the same thing – wondering what it'd be like to add a little girl to their family. In his imagination, she looked just like his wife - a little Olive. Yes. That would be perfect.

But Olivia caught herself staring and shook her head to clear it. Looking up, she found Peter watching her and gave him a faint, knowing smile, which he returned. Then they went back to eating their dinners.

* * *

><p>"OK," Olivia said out of nowhere. They were driving home, Liam fast asleep in the back seat.<p>

"OK, what?" Peter asked.

"We can try. For another kid, I mean."

That threw him for a moment. "Really?"

"Not right now. But one day." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't think we're ready yet. We're still struggling with Liam, and work is crazy, and he was so sick in the hospital. To go through that again…" She played with her lip in that way she always did when she was nervous, looking out the window. "I just think it would be wonderful, if it were possible."

"It _is_ possible, Olivia," Peter said. "But it'll be hard. Maybe when we're ready we can talk to Walter or Massive Dynamic about finding ways to make the next pregnancy easier. There has to be a way."

Olivia nodded pensively. "Peter, I need you to understand that I'm only doing this once. I don't want you to get your hopes up about getting a girl, because if we do have another boy, I'm not trying again. I can't."

"I understand," he said. "Having Liam was hard. Us being the way we are, from different worlds and everything… Our kids are always going to be born sick. Spending all that time in the hospital was terrible. And the miscarriage before… I'd never want to put us through all that again. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I know. But like you said, maybe Walter or Brandon can find a way to help us. Maybe if I took more Cortexiphan or something it would help the baby."

"As long as you and my kids are safe. That's all I ask." He sighed. "Olivia, I haven't been pressuring you into this, have I?"

"No. Of course not. I mean, you want it more than I do, but you're not pressuring me. I have thought about it, and being Liam's mother has changed my perspective on so many things. I want him to have a little brother or sister to play with. I don't want him to grow up as an only child, you know?"

"Hey! I was an only child," Peter argued.

"Yeah, and look how great you turned out," she teased, getting a laugh from Peter. "Seriously, though. Rachael and I fought a lot growing up but we'd do anything for each other too. It was great having her around when we were younger, sharing a room, talking through stuff. For most of my life she's been my best friend. I want my son to have that – someone he can always depend on, especially since we won't always be around."

"So you've been thinking about it? You think you might really start wanting another kid?"

"Yeah," she breathed, surprising herself. "But while part of me wants it so badly, the rest of me is just too scared of how hard it will be - which is why I'm saying that I'm open to it, I just don't think we're ready."

"That's fair. Thank you for thinking about it. I know how scary it is," he said, taking her hand as he drove and kissing her knuckles. "I'll wait as long as it takes Olivia. And if things change and you decide it's not what you want, that's OK too."

"I wish things were easier," Olivia murmured, looking down at their linked hands.

"Sometimes the world we have is not the world we want," Peter replied. "But we have to make the best of it."

Olivia held his hand and stared back out the window, the whole world passing by, wondering what the future held for them, and more so, wondering whether it would ever be possible for them to have the world they wanted. But they had just had a beautiful first Christmas with their son, with many more family Christmases to enjoy ahead. That was more than enough for now.

**Please please review! I'd love to hear what you think! We're getting closer and closer to the end of the story...**


	28. Hang On

**References: pizza (Os), Ms Gillespie (Fracture), Dr Reporto (Bloodline), **

**Set in November, 2008**

"Livia?

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"You OK, sweetheart?"

She realised that she was rubbing her side again. She'd been getting niggly little pains there all day, but nothing major. "I'm fine," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just baby stuff." She rubbed her eyes, trying to push through the nausea screaming through her body. "This one's putting me through hell, Peter, I swear."

He got up from his desk and sat next to her. They were in their office at the back of Walter's lab. Sighing softly, he brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "This one will make it, Livia."

"Peter, don't," she said, abruptly pulling away from him.

"What did I do now, Olivia?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "I'm just trying to talk to you about all this. Make sure you're OK."

"Well, don't. We've had this conversation a hundred times before. I'm not having it again," she snapped. Rubbing her eyes again, she let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten mad. Can we just get back to the case?"

Peter nodded, trudging back to his desk and sitting down, doing all he could to focus on the files in front of him. Things had been so hard for them lately. For months and months they'd been 'trying'. It should have been an exciting time full of anticipation, but it wasn't.

He'd seen other couples go through miscarriages before, like Sonya and Charlie. From the outside, Peter had always thought it was a sad thing. But these couples always seemed to move on. Have other kids. Soon enough it was like everybody forgot it ever happened. But it wasn't like that from the inside. With him and Olivia, they never forgot. With each new pregnancy, there was fear of doing something wrong, and even more heartbreaking, a fear of loving it. Loss seemed inevitable.

Before Liam, they'd lost one after Olivia got beaten on that raid. After Liam, Olivia lost another at 6 weeks. Then another one, a few months ago. That last one had been the hardest. They'd passed the 12 week line and were so sure they were safe. They'd told Liam he was going to be a big brother. He didn't really understand what was going on, but he was excited nonetheless. His tiny hands were always feeling the swell of Mommy's tummy, somehow knowing that a little baby was inside. They'd started telling people the good news, buying things, getting ready. Olivia had felt the baby move. They started thinking up names.

Then at the 20 week scan, when they were supposed to find out the sex of the baby, the doctors couldn't find a heartbeat anymore.

The news had been devastating. It just hit them full force, out of nowhere. Olivia's first feeling had been one of freakish horror and sickening panic. Her baby was dead inside her. And she'd have to deliver it. Dead.

Olivia hated herself. Her baby had died inside her and she hadn't even noticed? The doctors explained stillbirth to her a thousand times, telling her that it was nobody's fault and it couldn't be helped, but she had too much rage in her to care. Peter hated himself too, knowing that the reason they couldn't have healthy kids was because he was from Over There. Peter knew it was worse for her than it was for him, but he was still in pain. He might not have carried all those babies, but he wanted them so badly. After three failed pregnancies and one very sick little boy, they wondered if they were idiots for ever getting hopeful.

They had kept Olivia in hospital for a few days. For some reason the baby wasn't coming out on its own, so they had to give her some drugs to induce a kind of labour. It was excruciating. Not just physically, since the baby was so small, but emotionally it was so traumatic. It felt like dying. Both of them sobbed the whole four hours it took for Olivia to give birth, clinging to each other desperately. Then, silence. There was no baby crying. That was when it truly hit Peter. Their baby wasn't crying because it was dead.

The doctor was as compassionate as she could have been. In retrospect, Peter was grateful she'd acknowledged their baby as a tiny person with a future, not just a "foetus". She told them they could see the baby if they wanted. Hold it. Say goodbye. Olivia didn't want to. She was too angry, and just didn't see the point. So Peter went to see it later, without her.

Their baby was perfect.

Peter broke down, but he was unashamed – he cried because he loved his baby, mourning the dreams they'd lost with it. He couldn't help but think this had to be a dream. This couldn't possibly be happening to them. One of the nurses had wrapped it in a blanket for him, just like they would a preemie baby. Two more weeks and it could have survived in a NICU. It was tiny, so underdeveloped, it's pink skin paper-thin and features vague, but seemingly normal for that age. That made Peter furious. Their baby seemed so perfect, so normal – so what had gone wrong? Why did it have to die?

The nurse told him it was a little boy. He tried to tell Olivia, but she didn't want to know. She'd been in total shock, flipping between fury and despair and numbness. Her overwhelming feeling was one of fear, wondering how on earth she would explain this to her son. In the end, they decided that Peter would tell Liam there wasn't a baby coming any more. Again, he didn't truly understand it, but he could sense something big had changed. He knew Olivia had been in the hospital sick and this scared him. He went through a phase where he'd never let her out of his sight, as if terrified that something would happen to her. He refused to sleep in his own bed for a week, always running straight to their room and clinging to Olivia in his sleep. But despite this worry, Liam was a great comfort to both of them in that time. Somehow holding him or watching him sleep made them believe that there was one thing in their life that was still good.

They fought a lot. They didn't truly blame each other for everything that had happened, but in those fights they said the worst things. But somehow they always figured it out. They understood that they only lashed out because they were so upset. Peter remembered thinking there was no way she'd ever want another pregnancy after that, but one day, weeks later, she spoke up. "You went and saw it, didn't you?" she asked with a trembling voice, her guard down, ready to cry. "The baby?"

He nodded.

"I wish I did," she confessed. "I was too scared at the time, but now I regret saying no when the nurses asked me."

Peter swallowed thickly, biting back tears as he pulled her close, kissing her hair. "He was perfect, Olivia."

Her eyes went wide. "It was a boy?"

"Yes, sweetheart. He was a beautiful little boy." He cried with her, feeling her fall to pieces in his arms, glad that she was finally letting herself grieve over everything that had happened.

"We were so close," she had said, tears streaming down her face. "I really thought that all the Cortexiphan treatments we tried with Walter and Massive Dynamic and the doctors were finally working. I really thought we'd done it that time."

"Me too."

She swallowed. "I think, when we're ready, we should try again."

Needless to say, it completely floored him. "What? Are you sure?"

"Not entirely. But I'd only do it once," she said. "If we lose the next one I'm not trying again, I can't. I just need to know that we didn't give up on these terms. I need to know we moved past it and gave it one last shot."

So now they were eight weeks pregnant again. They hadn't told anyone, not even Liam. They were simply too afraid to. Since they agreed it was their last try, they were terrified of doing something wrong. More than that, they were terrified of getting attached. There was always that nauseating thought in the back of their heads: _it's probably just going to die like the others anyway_.

Now, staring at the files on his desk, Peter realised he couldn't concentrate. "You want to get pizza and go see Liam?" he asked. "It's almost time for lunch anyway. You look like you could use a break, and I definitely could. We'll take the files in the car, come on."

She looked up, giving him a soft smile. "I gotta eat, right?"

She stood up and he kissed her, trying to express to her wordlessly that he loved her and everything would be OK. He wished so badly that he could fix it all, but for now he could comfort her and be strong with her and that was all she could ask of him, really.

They headed back to the federal building to meet Charlie and the others for lunch. They had this routine now where they'd get Lucy and Liam out of day care and have lunch in the park across the road. The Federal Building had a pre-school on the 4th floor so agents didn't have to pay for their kids to be looked after. Liam and Lucy's parents appreciated being so close to them so if they ever had to go on a dangerous raid or anything they could give their kids a kiss before they left. But most days, they took them out for an hour to the park for during their lunch breaks, and that helped them immensely to get through the long days.

While Peter and the others got pizza and a spot in the park, Olivia and Charlie went to get the kids. Liam and Lucy were inseparable, always playing together like brother and sister. They fought a lot too, but mostly it was all in good fun. Seeing them playing happily in the pre-school, Olivia felt so much better. "Hi Liam," she said, smiling and picking up her son.

"Mama!" he giggled as she hugged him and gave him a kiss.

"How are you? Are you having fun?"

Liam nodded, smiling back at her. He was getting so big, almost two years old. His blonde hair was just a shade darker than hers, shaggy and a little curly at the ends. He was starting to look more and more like Peter. He had his father's charming smile for sure.

Next to them, Charlie knelt and embraced his three year old daughter. "Hey, angel. How's your day so far?"

"Good. Can we go on the swings, Daddy?"

"Yeah, sweetie. We're going to the park."

"Play da ducks?" Liam piped in, his face lighting up.

"Yes, little one, we're going to play with the ducks," Olivia told him, loving the way he smiled. Every time he heard the word "park" he got excited, since he was obsessed with the ducks that hung around there.

"They've been waiting for you to feed them all day, Liam," Charlie said, picking up Lucy as they walked over. "They're very hungry ducks."

"Hungwy," Liam repeated, testing the new word on his tongue. "Hungwy duck …"

Olivia felt that pain in her side again and winced. Nausea started to bubble in her stomach. She stopped walking for a moment, waiting for it to subside. She always had these little pains when she was pregnant with Liam. It was probably nothing.

"Liv? You OK?"

"Yeah," she breathed, the pain leaving as suddenly as it came.

He looked her over cautiously. "Liv, are you…?"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Charlie," she pleaded gently. But she could tell he knew.

"OK," he conceded. "But if you're not feeling well, why don't I carry Liam for now and you can hold Lucy's hand while she walks? She's a big girl, she can walk."

Thinking it through, she nodded and they swapped kids. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Don't mention it."

They found the others in their usual spot, a picnic table under a tree near the playground and the pond. The adults ate their pizza, watching the kids play on the grass next to them, ducks gathering around them as Liam and Lucy tossed them little bites of bread. Liam was at an age where he picked up words like crazy, and was testing out the new word Charlie had taught him. "Hungwy duck," he said, throwing handfuls of bread at the swarm of birds at his feet. "Eat, duck. You hungwy." Liam would do this thing where he would give ducks food until they surrounded him, and then he'd chase them all away like he was a big scary giant, yelling "RAAHRR!" Then he'd do it all over again. He found it hysterical.

Olivia found his boyishness amusing to watch in comparison to Lucy. The three year old girl took the much gentler approach of patting the ducks whenever they got close enough for her to stroke their feathers. She wanted the ducks to be her friends, and always got very upset when Liam chased them away. "No, Liam!" she'd cry. "Those are _my_ ducks! Go away!" But Liam would just keep giggling hysterically and that made her more upset. Sometimes she'd push him and he'd start crying too. The parents often had to remind Lucy and Liam not to fight with each other, but it was never a big issue. Five minutes later they'd be best friends again, playing and exploring the world together. At that age, everything they saw was a discovery.

But soon enough, Broyles called Lincoln and told him and Olivia to go question a victim's wife. Sighing, she looked to Peter. "I'm sorry, we have to go," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Can you take Liam back to day care after lunch?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Take care of yourself."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, kissing her sweetly. Though there was sadness in it, they knew they meant what they'd said. Life was hard right now, but they'd find a way through it all. They always did.

"Liam," she called, the little boy running over into her arms. "Mommy has to go back to work. Be a good boy for Daddy, OK? I love you. Bye bye."

"Bye, Mama," he replied, waving his hand.

She brushed some hair from his forehead and kissed him softly. With every baby they lost, they became that much more grateful for the one that made it. They'd give him the world if they could.

She and Lincoln drove over to the victim's house to speak to his wife. They'd been working on a really strange case that week. An ex-soldier had somehow become a human bomb and blown himself up at a train station. Walter was trying to piece the body back together, but so far the case was still a mystery.

Luckily, the wife had already been told of her husband's death. That saved Olivia and Lincoln the worst part, at least. She was remarkably composed, but Olivia could tell she was screaming on the inside. She knew the feeling.

"We were planning to start a family," Mrs Gillespie said. "I can't believe he's not coming home. No one would tell me what happened. Just that it was... some kind of bomb."

"We're still investigating," Olivia said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."

"Was he on any medication, or under any sort of medical care?" Lincoln asked.

"No. No, Dan was healthy. And I don't understand, what does this have to do with the explosion?"

Olivia couldn't answer. A huge wave of nausea hit her, worse than any of the others that day. And that feeling in her side was back. She grimaced in pain, clutching her stomach.

"Liv, you OK?"

She looked up to Mrs Gillespie. "Excuse me, do you have a bathroom that I could use?"

"Yeah, it's down the hall."

Somehow she got herself to stand up and walk. The nausea was disorientating. Colours flashed before her eyes in little dots, her ears ringing. She only just made it to the toilet before throwing up three or four times. The sickness began to wane, letting her catch her breath. When she was sure it was over, she went and rinsed her mouth out, washing her face.

She was about to leave the bathroom when she felt it. A raw, shooting pain ripped through her, sudden and astonishing. Her breath caught in her throat as her hand flew to her stomach, the other bracing herself against the wall so she wouldn't collapse.

She had felt that pain enough times before to know exactly what it was.

The very first thing she felt was rage. She slammed her hand against the tile wall, wanting to scream. Why did these things keep happening to them? They were good people. They'd tried so hard. Walter and Massive Dynamic had worked tirelessly to find a way for people from opposing universes to have children. But their babies just kept getting too sick to survive.

Before she even checked, she knew she was bleeding. Her whole body was shaking. She couldn't tell if it was from fear or pain. This was their last shot. She'd promised her husband they wouldn't try again after this. All she thought was "_I can't go through this again. Please. No. Not again._"

There was a knock on the door. "Liv? You alright?" Lincoln's voice sounded a million miles away.

She heard a quiet, choked sob echo off the tiled walls and it was only then that she realised she had been crying. Letting out a shaky breath, she tried to stand, but the pain clenched tight in her lower belly, not letting go. Gasping, she felt her knees buckle beneath her. Then everything went black.

* * *

><p>By the time Lincoln called, Peter was still in the park playing with Liam. It was right at the end of his lunch break, but he thought he could sneak in an extra five minutes in the playground with his son. Since their jobs demanded so much of them, this was often the only real time they got to spend with Liam each day. Most nights, he'd be too tired to play or anything by the time work was over.<p>

Liam looked up at Peter and reached for him. "Up, Dada."

Unable to deny this boy anything, Peter picked him up and hoisted him onto his shoulders, making Liam squeal with happiness. He loved being way up high, as if he was able to see over the whole world. Peter loved being able to make his son feel that way – happy and loved and strong.

Then Peter's phone rang, so he brought his wriggling son back to earth. "No…" Liam whined.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, putting him down to play in a sandpit as he answered his phone. "Peter Bishop."

"Peter, it's Lincoln," was the frantic reply on the other end.

"What's wrong?" he asked. But he already knew. He knelt down beside the sandpit, watching his son play as everything else in his life fell to pieces. "It's Olivia, isn't it?"

"We're in an ambulance on our way to the hospital. I'm so sorry, Peter. The medics are doing what they can, but she doesn't look good. She was throwing up heaps and then she fainted and now she's bleeding, and I… I didn't know what else to do."

"You did the right thing," Peter said, choking on unshed tears. He should be there with her, holding her hand. Being so far away, he felt there was nothing he could do for his wife. "Is she alright?"

"She's pretty out of it," Lincoln admitted. "The medic wants to talk to you."

"OK."

"Mr Bishop?" someone asked.

"Yes," he choked. "Please, is my wife alright?"

"She's hanging in there. We're trying to save the baby, but I need to ask you a few questions. How far along is she?"

"Eight weeks."

"How bad has her morning sickness been?"

"Pretty bad. But it usually is, with her. She only actually gets sick in the mornings and some afternoons, but the nausea lasts all day."

"Any other problems?"

"She gets headaches sometimes. Every now and then she gets dizzy. But that's it, nothing too serious. She's been trying really hard to rest and take care of herself."

"No alcohol, drugs, caffeine, excessive activity…?"

"Didn't you listen to what I just told you?" Peter snapped, unable to stop himself. "We've been doing everything we can to keep her and the baby healthy. This isn't her fault."

"Of course not, sir. It's just something I have to ask so we can effectively treat your wife. Has she complained of any cramping?"

"No, nothing like that."

"And you've had a successful pregnancy before?"

"Just one," he said, his heart breaking. He could hear Olivia in the background, whimpering that her stomach hurt, and Lincoln telling her it'd be OK. He was glad someone she knew was there to hold her hand through this, even if he wasn't. "We've had two miscarriages after our son was born and one before he was born. This will be our fourth."

"We're hoping that doesn't happen, Mr Bishop. We're taking her to Boston General. We'll tell the nurses to expect you."

"Thank you," Peter said, hanging up. He sat by the sandpit and put his head in his hands, trying to figure out how they hell they would get through this _again_.

Liam looked over to him with concern, reaching for his Daddy's face and seeing the tears hanging in his father's eyes. "Dada sad?" he asked.

Peter held him close, kissing his son's hair and fighting tears. "Yeah, buddy, Daddy's very sad. We tried really hard to give you a little brother or sister to play with. I'm so sorry, Liam. We tried."

* * *

><p>It still hadn't hit him yet. Not really.<p>

A nurse told him his wife had lost a child, but it didn't surprise him. He knew it already in his gut, and was able to accept it as soon as they told him. That had hit him, nice and hard. Mercilessly.

What hadn't truly hit him yet was the fact that they would never have another child. They'd promised each other that this was the last try. And it had failed. So no more pregnancy tests. No more doctors' visits. No more anticipation and wondering and hoping. They had their answer now. They'd never have more children.

_Maybe it's for the best_, he thought as he wandered to her room. _We have Liam. Maybe we just should have just been happy with one miracle. Maybe we got greedy._

He found her sitting in bed, hugging her knees. She stared out the window, her face devoid of any expression. She looked like she just felt numb.

"Livia," he said softly.

She didn't look at him – just hugged herself tighter and looked down. "We lost it," she said.

"I know." He tentatively walked over and sat on the bed beside her. "I'm so sorry, Livia. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, though her trembling voice betrayed her. She looked down at her fidgeting hands. "I guess I know what to expect by now. We've gone through this enough times to at least know that."

He nodded.

"Where's Liam?"

"Back at the Federal Building."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"No. I didn't tell him. I'm not sure he'd understand it, anyway." He held her hand, kissing her hair. "Are you in any pain?"

She shook her head. "Not really. They gave me something for the cramping."

"Have they done an ultrasound yet?" He knew to ask this. When Olivia had miscarried before, she always needed an ultrasound to see if there was any remaining tissue left in the womb to clear out with a D&C. It was a very uncomfortable procedure – he hoped she wouldn't need one this time. It would probably be another day before they let her go home.

"Not yet," she replied. "A doctor's coming to do it soon."

A single tear fell down her cheek and she harshly wiped it away. Seeing this, he gently wrapped his arms around her. "It's OK to cry, Livia. It's OK."

He could feel her trembling as she started to let herself go, crying with him over the loss of their last child. They didn't sob or scream or fight. They just held each other, weeping silently.

"That was the last one," Olivia whispered after a while. "We'll never have kids again."

Peter sighed. "We tried, sweetheart," he choked. "We did our best. I guess it just wasn't in the cards for us. But we did everything we could. That's all we can ask of ourselves, really."

Olivia nodded. "And we have Liam."

"Yes. We have him."

"That's enough."

"Yes."

"Maybe it's better this way," she said quietly.

He didn't know what to say to that. He knew she was condemning herself, blaming herself, doubting her abilities as a mother. She was probably thinking that it is better this way, because she was never really cut out for this whole motherhood thing. She'd always known that. And now she had proof. She could barely keep her children alive for a few weeks, let alone raise them well with the work she did. She wouldn't have been able to handle another baby. It must be better this way.

Yes. He knew that was exactly what she was thinking. But he also knew that she couldn't be more wrong, but more than that, he knew that nothing he could say would ever convince her that this had never been her fault at all. None of it.

He rubbed slow circles on her back, his fingertips tracing patterns. "You know, Livia…" he said hesitantly. "If you really wanted to, we could…"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "We're not trying again. I'm done."

"That's OK," he said. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," she cried softly. "How many times will we go through this hell before we decide enough is enough? This isn't working. We have to stop."

"OK," he whispered sincerely. As heartbreaking as it was, he meant it. "OK. We'll stop."

They couldn't say anything to each other after that. It was just too hard.

* * *

><p>What seemed like hours later, a doctor came into the room. "Mrs Dunham? Mr Bishop?"<p>

"Yes."

"My name is Dr Reporto," she said. "I'm here to do an ultrasound to confirm what's going on with your baby."

Olivia nodded soberly, wiping her face.

"If you two want some more time before we get started, you can take all the time you need," the doctor said gently.

"It's fine," Olivia said. "We've done this before. It's OK."

The doctor nodded sympathetically and got everything set up. As the ultrasound started, Olivia reached for Peter's hand, closing her eyes. She didn't want to let herself look at that screen. Seeing the place where her baby used to be would surely break her. He sat by her side the whole time, holding her close and whispering comfort in her ear.

"I'm so sorry," the doctor said after a while. "I'm afraid I have to confirm the paramedic's diagnosis. You have miscarried a child. I'm very sorry for you loss. We have counsellors and religious staff if you need someone to talk to…"

"We've heard the speech before," Olivia said, cutting her off. "Will I need a D&C?"

"No, we can't do that. The other baby's still going strong so it will need that extra tissue…"

"_What_?" Olivia shot up in bed, staring at the doctor in confusion.

"What other baby?" Peter asked, just as shocked.

There was silence for a moment. "You haven't had your first scan yet?" the doctor asked.

"No, we were going to go next week. What's going on? What are you saying?"

"Mrs Dunham," the doctor said, trying to figure out how to explain this. "This may be difficult for you and your husband to accept right now, but you were expecting twins. You miscarried a child this afternoon, but the other one is doing just fine from what I can tell."

"No. That can't be right," Olivia insisted. "No, I would have noticed. I… I would have known. Maybe the miscarriage didn't finish. Maybe the baby's just OK now."

"I understand that this is quite a shock to both of you," she replied. She pulled the screen a little closer, pointing things out. "Over here you can see the outline of the sac where the first baby was. But the sac is empty now because you miscarried. Now there's another sac over here, and that little smudge in there that's kind of flickering? That's your baby."

They could barely wrap their head around it. There was still a baby? They were still pregnant? How did this happen? They were just beginning to accept that they would never have more kids, and now _this_?

"What you've experienced here is called Vanishing Twin Syndrome," the doctor continued. "It's not uncommon in twin pregnancies. They can start out as twins and then one miscarries and is expelled or simply dies and stays in the womb. Then the mother's body reabsorbs the leftover tissue to help strengthen the surviving baby. That means the chances of you miscarrying the second child are very slim. Let me stress this – your second baby now has a really strong chance of being OK because this happened. You still have what appears to be another viable pregnancy. He or she seems to be doing very well."

Even though they could see it with their own eyes, they still couldn't quite believe it. The doctor played its heartbeat to them, but even then it seemed like they were in a dream. This couldn't possibly be real.

"I'll give you both some time alone," the doctor said, sensing that they needed it.

After she left, neither of them spoke for a long time. They just kept staring at the ultrasound photo in their hands, making out the two sacs, one empty, one full of life.

"Oh my God," Peter whispered, running his fingertips over the picture.

"I know," Olivia replied. "I don't know whether to feel happy or sad."

"Me neither. I can't believe it. There was another baby this whole time?"

"I couldn't tell," she confessed. "I should have noticed something was different."

"Livia, there's no way to tell something like that so early."

She shook her head in disbelief. "This is so crazy. Do you think this one will be OK?"

"I hope so."

"I still stand by what I said before, Peter. If this one doesn't make it, I'm done."

"I understand. But hopefully this one will pull through. He or she is already a fighter. We've been given a second chance." A sad smile on his face, he laid a gentle hand on her still-flat belly, trying to make sense of it all. "Stay strong, little one. Mommy and Daddy love you so much. We're sorry you lost your brother or sister in there, but you're not alone. No you're not. You're not alone. You're gonna be OK, I can feel it." Briefly moving his hand, he leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on Olivia's belly. "Hang on for us, little one. Just hang on."

And in the middle of that chaos and fear and despair and hope, that was all any of them could do. Hang on.

**Review because it makes me smile : )**

**Ps. I'm not exactly sure how many more chaps I'm doing yet, but I aim to finish this story before the start of season 4. Just letting you know**


	29. Blessed Part 1

**Blessed (Part 1)**

**References: reading stories (Unleashed), **

**Set in July 2009**

Olivia sat in her baby's room, exhausted. At almost eight months pregnant, that made sense. She was in old clothes, covered in bits of paint. She'd been spending the last couple of days painting the baby's room, just as she had done for Liam. They'd found out a few months earlier that they were having a little girl, so she'd designed the mural to be filled with horses and butterflies and other girly things. Olivia wasn't particularly one for gender stereotypes, but she wanted her daughter to have an innocent, normal childhood, if it were possible.

As she gradually got closer and closer to her due date, Olivia had become very nervous. To be fair, she'd been nervous throughout the whole pregnancy. After losing her daughter's twin in a miscarriage, she was always terrified that something would go wrong. People tried to assure her that the baby was safe in this late stage of the pregnancy, but that meant nothing to her. She and Peter had lost a baby at 20 weeks the year before, and stillbirth was always a possibility. Like with Liam, they'd gone to see Frank for regular tests, finding that their little girl had very underdeveloped lungs and may need surgery. All over again they were fighting with the FBI and their insurance company over benefits, saving all the money they could, trying to juggle work and Liam at the same time. It had been a stressful time, yes, but they were sure it would be worth it. They'd to anything to have this last baby make it.

Sighing, Olivia ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, trying to rest a little before going back to painting. She smiled a little as she looked back on her progress so far. She couldn't wait for Peter to see it. He was away on a case, so it was just her doing FBI desk work at home for a little extra money while she rested and looked after Liam. She was managing, but she wanted Peter home. He'd been gone for two weeks already.

Olivia's phone rang and she knew who was calling before she even answered it. "Peter?"

"Hey, sweetheart. You doing OK?"

"Yeah, I'm just painting the baby's room," she said sleepily.

"I bet it looks awesome, hun."

She smiled softly to herself. It was so good to hear his voice. "I miss you," she said.

She heard him sigh. "I miss you too, Livia. But this case is insane, they're pulling agents in from all over the country, and -"

"It's OK. You don't have to tell me our jobs are important."

"I wish you were here, Livia. You'd love it. We're so close to catching these guys, I swear."

"I wish I was there too," she sighed, rubbing her belly. "But baby girl's more important."

"I'm sorry you're missing out on doing your job, sweetheart. Trust me, if I could have a turn carrying one of our kids I would."

"Bullshit," she laughed. "You wouldn't last a month."

"Come on…"

"It's true! A few weeks of 24 hour nausea, getting the crap kicked out of you from the inside, getting fat and never being able to sleep and you'd be running for the hills screaming 'I want out!' Admit it. And don't even get me started on giving birth."

"Fine, fine, I'm a little wimp who'd never survive pregnancy."

"Most men are," she teased.

"Yeah, yeah," he laughed. "Liam's not giving you too much trouble, is he?"

"No. He's been fine, he just misses his Daddy."

"Well you can tell him I miss him too. And little Olive? How is she?"

Olivia smiled at the nickname he'd been using for their unborn daughter. It was cuter than calling her 'the baby'. "She's fine. I went to see Frank for another scan yesterday. He says her lungs are still in pretty bad shape but she's hanging in there."

"OK, well that's good I guess. She's still got a month or so to grow in there. Is she kicking?"

"Not right now. She's kind of mellow today. Every now and then she just rolls over but that's about it."

"I wish I could feel that… I can't wait to meet her."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Just try and get home soon, OK?"

"Olivia, we'll be done by the weekend, I'm sure of it. Listen, they're calling us in, I should go. Tell the kids I love them and take care of yourself, alright? I love you."

"I love you too. Just come home."

"I will. Bye."

She ran her hands over her enormous belly and smiled to herself. "Hear that, baby girl? Your Daddy's coming home soon. I know he hasn't been around for a couple of weeks, but he loves you and thinks about you all the time." She got a little kick in response and sighed. After everything they'd been through with the other pregnancies, it seemed impossible that this was real – that she could be at home lazily painting murals and cradling her belly in her hands, whispering to a baby girl she thought she'd never have.

* * *

><p>"... and the Bear came across a Fox," Olivia read, her two and a half year old son cuddled close to her in bed. "And the Fox said 'Bear, Bear, stop right there! There's a monster up ahead'. 'But I don't see any monster,' the Bear said, and he kept walking because he didn't believe there was a monster up ahead."<p>

Liam nudged her a little. "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are monsters real?"

She smiled softly, running a hand through his hair. "No, Sweetheart. They're not real."

"Are bad guys real?"

"Yeah they are, little one. But you don't have to worry about that, coz Mommy and Daddy put the bad guys in jail, remember?"

"Where's Daddy?" he asked for the hundredth time that week.

She sighed, holding him close. "Daddy's working, Liam. But he'll be home soon."

"When?"

"I don't know, honey. Soon."

Liam looked down and fidgeted with his hands.

"Do you miss Daddy?" she asked him softly. He nodded. "It's OK, Liam. I miss him too. And he misses us all the time. I know Daddy and I go away sometimes, but we don't want to. We only do it because we have to."

"Why?" he whimpered, wiping his eyes. Her heart broke for him as she held him close to her, stroking his hair as he cried. Sometimes she really forgot how much of an effect all this had on him. Usually when Peter had to go away for a case, she had to go with him. It was only now she was heavily pregnant that she was home to see the confused, lonely little boy they left behind. The guilt she felt was immeasurable.

"I'm so sorry, beautiful boy," she whispered, trying to soothe him to sleep. "We put bad guys in jail to keep you and your baby sister safe – so you can live in a better world. You'll understand when you're older. But Daddy's coming home soon, little one. I promise… Shhh, sweetheart…He'll be home soon…"

* * *

><p>Olivia was still in bed when she felt it. A tight, seizing pain clenching in her lower stomach. As it passed, she let out a breath that had stuck in her throat and looked to the clock. <em>5:19 am<em>. Rattled, she let her head fall back against her pillow, her hands running over her belly. "Baby girl, don't even think about it," she whispered harshly, willing her daughter to stay put. It was probably nothing, she convinced herself. Just a false contraction. People got those. It was nothing.

She tried to get back to sleep, but her body wouldn't let her. Then she felt it again. Frustrated, she groaned through the pain. Checked the clock again. _5:28 am_. Nine minutes apart. Shit.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned. Tears welling in her eyes at the pain, she pulled herself up in sit in bed, rubbing her belly. "Baby girl, I love you, but you don't get to do this to me right now. You're too early, you've got bad lungs, and your Daddy is in New York. You do not get to do this to me. Not today."

But moments later, another contraction hit. Looking down at her stomach, Olivia scoffed. "OK. You're really not kidding."

Reaching for the phone, she called her husband, her hands shaking.

Peter groaned as a ringing phone woke him up, rubbing his eyes. "What?" he mumbled as he answered it.

"Peter you need to get your ass back to Boston right now."

"Woah, what did I do?" he replied, startled by his wife's panicked voice.

"I'm in labour," she said breathlessly. "Please, Peter, I need you back here."

"What?" he yelled. "The due date's a month away, she can't be coming now."

"OK, well you try explaining that to her, coz she's not listening to me!"

"Livia, take a breath," he told her. "Calm down. I'm on my way. Call an ambulance if nobody can take you to the hospital. I'll be there soon, sweetheart. You gonna be OK?"

"Yeah. I'll call Rachael."

"Good. See you soon, then. Hang in there, Livia. I love you."

"I love you too," she breathed, the gravity of the situation slamming down on her at full force. She was in labour. Early labour. Without her husband. And she had a two year old to look after. This could not possibly be any more inconvenient. After she called Rachael, she waddled down to Liam's room, a hand braced on her lower back to soothe the ache there. She shook her son awake. "Liam, wake up."

"But it's not sunny," he grumbled, crawling under the blankets to hide - a grumpy deep sleeper like his father.

"I know. But we have to go to the hospital. Your baby sister's decided it's time for her to come out."

Liam's face lit up. "Baby's coming?"

"Yes," she groaned, trying to fight through the pain. "Come on, we've got to get you dressed."

Getting Liam ready wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. Usually he put up a lot of resistance, but he was so excited about seeing his little sister that he was dressed at lightning speed. Olivia was about to help him with his shoes when he shook his head. "I do it," he said insistently, sitting on his bed to put them on. "I put my shoeses on my foots."

"Put your _shoes_ on your _feet_, honey," Olivia corrected.

But it was too early in the morning for the two and a half year old to care about his grammar. When he was done, he smiled down on his feet proudly. "See, Mommy? I do it by myself."

"Good boy," she said sleepily. Part of her was proud of him, but the rest of her just didn't care. She was too anxious for her sister to show up and take her to the hospital.

Moments later, Peter called them back. "Livia, it's me. Is someone coming to get you?"

"Yeah, Rachael's on her way."

"Great. I'm about to start driving back. I should be there in three or four hours."

"I don't think she's gonna wait that long," she told him breathlessly, pain and panic evident in her voice as she tried to bear through another contraction. "They're already less than 10 minutes apart, Peter."

"I'll do my best, sweetheart. If I took a plane by the time I got tickets and went through security and everything it'd take just as long. It's gonna be OK. Rachael will be there to help you until I get there. Is Liam around?"

"He's right here," she said, passing her son the phone.

Liam giggled in delight. "HI DADDY!" he yelled into the phone. That boy had no sense of volume.

"Hey buddy. I need you to listen to me, OK?"

"Ooh-kay."

"I'm coming home but it might take a long time. So you need to take good care of Mommy for me. Be good, and do everything she and Aunt Rachael tell you, OK?"

"Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Promise, Daddy."

"Good boy. I'll see you soon, bud. I love you."

"Love you too, Daddy. Bye bye."

* * *

><p>Pacing in her birthing room, Olivia checked her watch again. <em>7:32am<em>. "Damn it…"

"Liv, honey, your contractions are getting pretty strong," Rachael said. "Maybe you should sit down and rest."

Olivia ignored her, pacing still. She was vaguely aware of Liam playing patiently with his teddy bear in the corner. She and Peter had discussed letting Liam watch the birth. In the end they decided it would be good for him to be a part of every part of the pregnancy. They were so worried that once their daughter was born he would feel like he was pushed out of the picture, so they made sure he was always involved. They took him to ultrasound appointments, let him help them buy baby stuff, explaining childbirth so it would be natural to him when he saw it. He was so excited about being a big brother.

"Liv…" Rachael said again. "I know this isn't the way you planned it, but you can't afford to stress yourself out. Not now."

Olivia ran a hand through her hair, fighting tears. Damn hormones. "I can't have this baby today," she said, trying so hard not to crumble. "She's too early."

"Liv, Liam was a little early too and you got through that. It'll be OK."

Olivia was about to respond when a small cry rippled out of her throat as another contraction hit full force. Her knees buckled, but her sister caught her. "I've got you, Liv. You're good."

Olivia waited for the pain to pass. Tears welling in her eyes, she checked her watch for the millionth time. "He's not gonna make it, is he?"

Rachael wrapped her in a huge hug, letting Olivia have the little meltdown she needed before she could move on and get through this. "Livia, we just spoke to Peter. He's only a couple of hours out. I'm sure he's driving like a maniac with sirens on and everything. He's doing everything he can to get here in time."

"I know. It's not his fault. But I need him here. He has to be here for his daughter's birth. He can't miss this."

"Listen to me, Liv. Whatever happens, happens. There are some things we just can't control. If Peter does miss this, it'll be a real shame, but he's got a whole lifetime with his daughter after this. I mean, I was unconscious during Ella's caesarean, I never saw her birth, and we turned out OK, right?"

Olivia smiled through her tears, finding comfort in her sister's arms. "Peter and I just had all these ideas and plans about what this would be like and she's just changed everything."

"I know, Liv. Kids are like that," she laughed. Olivia couldn't help but laugh a little too.

She gave Rachael a weak smile. "Thank you for putting up with me," she chuckled. "I really appreciate you being here."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else, Livvy," she said sincerely, taking her sister's hand.

* * *

><p>It was about 8am now. Olivia was resting against the rim of the tub, trying to keep her nausea at bay as she fought through the growing pain of her contractions. This day was turning out terribly. This was not the way it was supposed to be. But the water was helping her stay calm and focus on the baby to some degree.<p>

Olivia heard a faint pitter-patter of feet and felt someone tap her shoulder. "Mommy?"

She opened her eyes, seeing Liam standing shyly by the side of the tub clutching his teddy. "Hi, Liam. Hi Bear," she said, addressing both of them. Liam got annoyed when people didn't acknowledge his bear as a person. "What's up?"

"Is Daddy coming?"

"Yes, little one. But he's gonna be late," she groaned, another contraction ripping through her.

She felt his little hands wrap around hers as much as they could. "It's OK, Mommy," he said. "I'll look after you."

When it was over, she smiled, giving him a kiss. He was so much like his father. "Thank you, Liam."

"Your tummy hurt?" he asked.

"Yes, it hurts a lot," she said honestly. "But that's supposed to happen, so you don't have to worry."

"Baby come out soon?"

"Yes, very soon. Are you excited?"

He nodded, smiling. "I wanna see baby."

"I want to see her too." Another contraction seized her body and she stifled a cry as her son held her hand. The midwife timed the contractions as less than a minute apart and announced that it was time to start pushing.

A huge sense of dread rattled Olivia then. She couldn't do this now. Not with a sick preemie and a missing husband. No way.

"I can't," she told the midwife, starting to panic. "Not without my husband here. I can't."

"Liv, we're all here for you. You can do this," Rachael reminded her, holding her hands to ease the pain.

But Olivia was adamant. "No. I'm not pushing."

"Liv, you have to."

"I won't."

"You have to."

Another contraction struck, making her tremble and shudder as she held back her cries. Resisting the urge to push only doubled her pain. As the contraction reached its peak, she felt herself crumble. "I can't, I can't…"

"That's it, I'm calling Peter," Rachael said, pulling out her phone and dialling. Before long, she passed it to Olivia.

"Sweetheart?" he asked. "How's it going?"

Hearing his voice both calmed her and made her want to cry. Blinking away tears, she whimpered in pain. "Peter, they want me to push but I can't."

"Why not? Is something wrong?"

"No. But I need you here."

"Hun, I'm doing the best I can, but I'm still on the other side of Boston. It's peak hour, Liv, I'm not gonna make it. You're gonna have to do this without me."

"No," she whimpered.

"You can do this, Olivia."

"I know I can! I've done it before," she argued in frustration. "But I won't do this without you here. After everything we did to fight for her, you can't miss her birth."

"Livia, it doesn't sound like she's gonna wait for me. But that's OK. You need to start pushing, Olivia. It'll just hurt her if you don't."

"I know, but…"

"No buts, Olivia. I know this isn't perfect, but you have to push, sweetheart. If you try and slow the labour, you'll only hurt yourself and the baby. I'm right here to talk you through it."

"Peter…"

"Be strong, Livia. You can do this."

Fighting tears, she nodded and got on with it.

**Please review! You get to mee the baby next chap : )**


	30. Blessed Part 2

**Blessed (Part 2) **

**References: "our greatest achievement" (Over There: Part 2)**

They kept Peter on speakerphone the whole way through the birth. It was the best he could do. Olivia sat in the birthing pool, Rachael holding her hands and Liam standing alongside holding the phone. Olivia was surprised to find that while this birth was still agonising, it was significantly less painful that Liam's had been. She knew what to expect this time, her body more accustomed to the pains and stirrings of childbirth. She pushed for a good half an hour, all the while receiving encouragement from her family, whether they were there with her or far away. She tried to yell at Peter for not being there, but luckily for him, her contractions kept interrupting her, making her breath catch in her throat. She pushed, bled, sweated, cried, gripping her sister's hands.

Then it happened. Her baby girl slipped from her body, and she reached down and lifted her from the water to give her that first breath of life. There was something so empowering about catching her own baby. She sobbed tears of joy and clutched the whimpering baby to her chest as a nurse came over to gently strap a tiny oxygen mask to the baby's face so her weak lungs could breathe. "Oh my God," Olivia gasped. Looking down on her wriggly, whimpering baby, she started to laugh and cry at the same time. "Hey little one," she said breathlessly. "That was quick." She ran a hand over her daughter's head, amazed by how much hair she had, and kissed her softly. "I love you so much, baby girl…"

She could hear Peter on the phone. "Livia? Are you OK? Is the baby alright? What's going on?"

"It's your daughter," she cried. Their baby was perfect. She was very small, her little face scrunched up as she cried, still getting used to the world. She nestled against her mother's chest, tiny hands clutching at her skin. Olivia was freely crying now, completely overwhelmed by her exhaustion and happiness and protectiveness for this little baby. "I wish you were here right now, Peter. She's so beautiful."

"I wish I was there too. What does she look like?"

"She looks like you," Olivia choked.

Their daughter let out a little hiccup of a whimper, and Olivia could here Peter crying on the other end. "Oh my God… Our baby girl."

Olivia smiled through her tears, turning to her son, who was staring curiously over the edge of the tub. "Look, Liam. This is your little sister. Do you want to touch her? You have to be gentle."

Tentatively, he reached out to touch her, his fingertips brushing the baby's wet skin. He giggled. "She's little." Olivia was surprised by how OK he was with all of this. At two and a half years old, childbirth couldn't faze him. He didn't ask about the blood, or freak out about his mother being in pain. All he saw was his little sister, the one he'd waited to meet for so long. Rachael sat him on the edge of the tub so he could get a closer look. He held his sister's hand gently, whispering to her. "Hiiii… Hi little baby…"

"She's so beautiful, Liv," Rachael praised, kissing her sister's cheek. "You did a good job."

Olivia turned to the doctor who was next to her checking on the baby as she held her. Looking down at her daughter, she was concerned by her shallow breathing and weak cries. "Is she alright?"

"She's having a little trouble breathing, but the mask is helping," the doctor assured her. "It's nothing we didn't expect. Soon we'll take her to do more tests on her lungs as well as her routine newborn exam."

"OK," she sighed, leaning back and rocking the sick little baby in her arms. "Shh, baby girl… You're gonna be OK… We'll look after you…"

"Who wants to cut the cord?" a nurse asked.

Olivia thought about it. "Is it alright if my son does it?"

"If we help him, that should be fine."

Olivia looked to Liam, who still sat on the edge of the tub, mesmerised by his baby sister. She and Peter had always wanted him to feel involved in the family now that he had a sister, and this would be the perfect opportunity for that. "Hey Liam, you want to do a special big brother job for me?"

"OK!" he said excitedly.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. "See this cord here?" she asked him, gesturing to the umbilical cord. "Do you remember when Daddy and I taught you about this?"

"Yeah. It helps baby breathe in your tummy."

"That's right, little one. But now she's out of my tummy so she doesn't need it anymore. She needs someone to cut it for her. It's a very important job. Do you want to do it, if the nurse helps you?"

"OK."

The nurse clamped the baby's umbilical cord and helped Liam hold the scissors, showing him where to cut. "It's squishy," he giggled. He cut the cord and smiled so proudly afterwards. Olivia looked on, completely amazed by how her little boy stepped up. He'd handled this whole situation so well – probably better than her.

"Good job, Liam," Peter said over the phone. "I'm proud of you. This baby's lucky to have you for a big brother."

"Daddy's right," Olivia said to Liam, leaning over slightly so she could kiss his forehead. "She's very lucky."

"I'm so proud of you too, Livia. Delivering her on your own. You're amazing," Peter said. He sounded like he was crying. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she replied breathlessly, completely exhausted. "Now get your ass over here and meet her."

* * *

><p>It was about an hour later when Peter finally burst through the doors of the maternity ward. "Sir, you can't run in here," a disgruntled nurse scolded him.<p>

"Please, my wife just gave birth. Olivia Dunham. Can you tell me where she is?"

The nurse took him to Olivia's room. "Be quiet," she told him. "She's sleeping."

Nodding, he caught his breath and tried to compose himself. He should have been upset that he missed his daughter's birth, and he was, but right now he didn't care. He was just overjoyed by the fact that after everything, they had a daughter at all.

Entering the room, he found Olivia and Liam cuddled together, asleep in bed, and Rachael sitting beside them. "Peter," she whispered, coming over and hugging him. "Congratulations."

"Thank you so much for taking care of everything, Rachael. I don't know what we would have done without you. How is she?" he asked, gesturing to Olivia.

"She was pretty freaked out about you not being there, but now she's just happy and tired. And your son was a little champ – he was so calm about everything, I couldn't believe it. But I guess kids can always handle more than you think they can. They've taken the baby for tests. They said she'll be in the NICU when you're ready."

"Great. Thank you so much, Rachael. I'll see you soon."

As she left, Peter leaned over the bed, kissing his wife and son. Liam was a lump dead to the world, but Olivia woke up at the light touch. "You came," she whispered, her voice raspy.

He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner, sweetheart."

Olivia shook her head at his apology. "You're here now," she said, pulling him close for a kiss.

"I'm so proud of you for getting through that on your own, Livia."

She shrugged. "Piece of cake. Barely felt it," she joked, smiling sleepily.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting on the bed beside her.

"Sore. And exhausted."

"Did you need stitches again?"

"Nope. This one was good to me. Small. Not like her brother," she laughed. A demure smile bloomed on her face. "You should go to the NICU and see your daughter. She looks just like you."

"Really? What did she do to get such bad luck?" he joked, but really be was overjoyed. Tears welled in his eyes. "I can't believe we have a little girl."

"Me neither." Olivia laughed through a yawn, waking her son. "Liam. Guess who's here."

The little boy rubbed his eyes and looked up, grinning. "Daddy!"

"Hey buddy," Peter greeted, hugging him tight. He'd missed his son so much. "You're a big brother now! That's a tough job but I think you'll be really good at it. Did you see your baby sister?"

"Yeah."

"What does she look like?"

"Glowy. Like you, Daddy."

"Glowy?" Peter asked, confused.

"He means she glimmers," Olivia explained as Liam yawned, closing his eyes again. After being up all night, he was almost as exhausted as her.

"Is he scared?" Peter asked quietly as his son went back to sleep.

"No. He's little, so he can see it all the time. Cortexiphan works better on kids, remember?"

"Right. I had no idea he could see my glimmer," Peter said.

"I didn't know until today either," Olivia said. "He's only two and a half – his language is pretty basic. Maybe he just couldn't find a way or a reason to express it until now. I think he figures it's normal."

Olivia yawned again, her sleepy son snuggling close to her. "Peter, I don't think I can keep my eyes open. Go see her? Check she's OK?"

"Of course. I'll see you soon. I love you," he said, kissing her softly.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p>When the nurse led him through the NICU, he couldn't help the horrible memories that came screaming back to him - Liam at his worst, skin bruised from tubes and needles, hooked up to ventilators, on the brink of death. He shuddered to think that they could be going through all that again with his daughter.<p>

_His_ _daughter_. That thought alone blew his mind.

Passing all the babies, he wondered which one she was. He had no idea what she looked like, except that everybody said she looked like him. He wondered how small she was - probably a lot smaller than Liam had been, since she was early. Part of him couldn't believe it was happening, like he was walking through a half-remembered dream from Liam's time there. He recognised some of the nurses who took care of his son. Some of them even remembered him, asking how Liam was doing. He felt comfort knowing that these nurses would sincerely and lovingly care for his daughter just as they had done for his son.

The nurse stopped by an incubator, a little bundle of pink wrapped up inside. "This is your daughter, Mr Bishop," she said with a bright smile. "Congratulations."

He suddenly found himself nervous. This was not the way he had imagined meeting his daughter. He was supposed to have been there to see her birth, hear her first cries, be the first (or probably second) person who ever held her. It wasn't supposed to have been like this.

Then he decided it didn't matter. He was here now. It was just him and her, and maybe that was better, really.

Tentatively stepping a little closer, he leaned over and saw a tiny little girl wrapped tight in her blankets, a pink beanie on her head and a nasal cannula on her face to help her breathe. Half asleep, she gently rubbed her face and sucked on her fingers the same way Liam did when he was first born. She was beautiful – a thatch of dark hair, soft skin, long fingernails, delicate eyelashes. And freckles. Not as many as her mom, but enough for resemblance to show.

He didn't understand how everyone said she looked like him. She was far too beautiful to have taken after anyone but her mother.

But as beautiful as she was, she didn't feel like his. It was almost as if he was visiting the NICU, looking in on someone else's baby. Sure enough, that sign on her incubator read "Baby Girl Dunham-Bishop, 5 pounds 7 ounces, born 8:44am, 3rd July 2009", but he still couldn't feel it. He put it down to missing the birth. Maybe that was it.

"This is her?" he asked the nurse.

She nodded. "She's a heartbreaker, that one," she laughed.

Peter smiled a little. She was. She really was. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course. But she's very fragile right now, so you'll need to sit with her."

"But she's OK, right?" he asked worriedly.

"For now she's doing well, yes. She's underdeveloped because of her prematurity and her lungs are in bad shape, but the cannula is helping her breathe. Her doctor will come and speak to you and your wife soon."

"OK." Peter pulled an armchair over and sat down as the nurse set her down in his arms. He shivered. He could barely wrap his mind around the fact that the warm, wriggling weight in his arms was his daughter.

And then it hit him. Like a train. This was his _daughter_. All the time Olivia was pregnant, that idea of "daughter" was just a concept. Holding her made her real.

He started to cry. All the same emotions that had overwhelmed him when Liam was born were overwhelming him now. The worry, the joy, the apprehension, the fascination, the devotion, the protectiveness, the disbelief, the love. Oh my God, the love. That love that was all-consuming, all-sacrificing. That love that knew no bounds and conquered all fear. _That_ love. He adored her.

"Hey, little princess," he choked, smiling through his tears. "It's me, your Daddy. I'm so happy to meet you…"

His daughter made a small humming sound and wriggled in her sleep, nestling against his chest for warmth. He couldn't keep himself from smiling, despite how hard the last year and a half had been. All those miscarriages, all that hurt. They finally had the little girl of their dreams. She would never replace the babies they lost, of course, but her very existence had breathed so much life and happiness back into this suffering family. She'd taught them how to hope again.

They'd lost so many babies, even his daughter's twin, but she had made it. The very thought both broke his heart and made it swell with pride. He was afraid to pinch himself, just in case it all wasn't real. "You're a fighter, sweetheart," he whispered. "A Dunham girl, that's for sure."

Feeling the pad of his thumb stroke her cheek, the baby stirred and blinked her eyes, looking up at her father for the first time. That got him crying all over again. Her eyes were green – like his when he was born, but also like her mother's. "You're so beautiful, darling girl," he cried, laughing at the same time. "You're perfect…"

He wiped his eyes. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but she definitely wasn't one of them. Marrying Olivia and creating this family were the only good things he'd ever done. He knew he would do whatever was necessary to protect the three people he loved the most. As he looked down on his daughter, he realised he'd never felt that protectiveness more strongly.

He was utterly smitten with her. The love he felt for her was joyous and fierce. He'd give her the whole world if he could, and would die to protect her from its dangers. But he was confident she'd grow up strong like her mother, always taking care of herself. He had a good feeling about the woman she would become. A good feeling in his bones.

Of course, he was worried about how sick she was. And how to raise her. He didn't know a damn thing about girls. But for the time being, he pushed his fears aside. As he looked down upon his little girl, all he felt was hope.

"_S'agapo, agapi mou_," he whispered in Greek to his daughter, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead for the first time.

_I love you, my darling. _

* * *

><p>They decided to wait until Frank came and spoke to them about her test results before they invited friends and family over. They took the opportunity to spend some quiet time with the baby in the NICU. Peter and Olivia had to show Liam how to scrub up, telling him to be quiet because the babies were sleeping. "You know, Liam, you were very sick too when you were a little baby," Peter said as he led his son through by the hand. "You used to live here so the doctors could look after you."<p>

"Really?"

"Really. You had a sick tummy and a sick heart, but you're better now. Your baby sister will get better too."

They reached the baby's NICU pod and spent some time holding her, until eventually Frank approached them. "Hi Peter, Olivia. Congratulations on your daughter," Frank said with a warm smile, shaking their hands.

"Thank you."

"And how are you, little man?" he asked Liam, kneeling down and giving him a high-five. Liam had been seeing Frank for monthly check-ups since he was released from the NICU, so he knew Frank well. That was important to Peter and Olivia, that they have the same doctor treating their daughter.

"Good," Liam answered. "Is baby OK?"

"That's what I came to talk to your Mommy and Daddy about, buddy," he said, standing up again. "We've done tests on your daughter's lungs and as we suspected they're quite underdeveloped. Lungs are a tricky thing, especially with babies born a little earlier than expected. For one, we'll have to teach you how to feed her all over again. Newborns automatically know how to suck, swallow and breathe when they're nursing, but preemies and babies with lung issues have to learn that. I don't mean to scare you, but there will be times when she will just stop breathing while she's eating, and that may continue until she's six months old. It's to be expected. Like with Liam, we'll have to put you through CPR classes again and teach you what to do in those situations, but while she's in the NICU we'll take care of all that."

Peter and Olivia looked to each other, their stomachs dropping. That sounded serious. "So she'll need surgery then?" Peter asked.

"There's a chance she may not. It's a waiting game. If we supply her with extra oxygen like we're doing now, sometimes lungs can develop to full size on their own. We can also put her on a special ventilator which will inflate her lungs and encourage them to grow. But if those non-invasive treatments don't start working within a couple of weeks, we may have to do a surgical procedure. But that is a last resort. We'll just have to wait and see."

"How long do you think she'll have to stay in the hospital?" Olivia asked.

"It really depends. If her lungs grow with the extra oxygen, you can take her home in two or three weeks. If we have to do surgery it could be over a month. I'd say five weeks at the very most. Once her lungs are at full size, then she should live a perfectly normal life. Her prognosis is very good, much better than when Liam was born. You survived that, so you'll survive this, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Peter said, smiling at his wife as she held their new baby. "We will."

"I'm afraid there's something else I have to discuss with you," Frank said. "We conducted the routine tests on your daughter and found that she was mostly fine, except that she wasn't responding to sound in the way a newborn should. We ran some more tests and I'm afraid the results weren't good. It appears that your daughter has been born profoundly deaf."

Olivia felt her heart sink. First her lungs, and now this? She was devastated, but in a way, it didn't surprise her as much as it should have. When she was pregnant her daughter kicked a lot, but never in time to music as Liam had, and she'd never really responded to their voices. Thinking back over her pregnancy, she decided it sort of made sense. Even so, the news had rendered her speechless. She felt panic, and worry. How the hell would they handle this as parents? What did this mean for their daughter's future? Would she ever be like other kids? That last question broke her heart. With the childhood she had, all Olivia had ever wanted was for her kids to be normal. That dream seemed unreachable now.

Meanwhile, the first thing Peter felt was absolute, crushing guilt. Just like Liam, she'd been born sick because of him, unable to breathe properly or even hear. It was his fault. But part of him was still reeling from the news, still in shock. He hadn't seen this coming. He knew she would be sick because they came from different worlds, but for some reason it had never crossed his mind that their daughter could be born without a sense. He suddenly realised that all the words of adoration he'd whispered to her in the NICU when he first met her had gone unnoticed by her. Obviously he hadn't expected her to understand them, since she was only a few hours old, but he expected her to at least _hear_ them. As he felt the threat of tears sting his eyes, all he could think was, '_She's never going to hear me tell her that I love her_'.

He finally managed to ask, "Are you sure?"

"I'm afraid so. We double checked all the tests and I even had a specialist come and see her to confirm. We'll need to do follow-up tests over the next few months, but so far we are confident that she is deaf."

"What's 'deaf'?" Liam asked.

"It means she can't hear anything, Liam," Peter explained, barely able to accept it himself.

"Why not?"

"Some people are just born that way, buddy. But there's nothing wrong with your sister," Peter assured him, kneeling to his level so he would understand. "She's perfect just the way she is. Even if she can't hear, we'll love her just the same."

"Of course we will," Olivia breathed, looking down at the beautiful baby in her arms. "I just have no idea how to handle this. I don't think I've ever even met a deaf person before."

"One of my best friends in high school was deaf," Peter said, suddenly remembering. The thought gave him some comfort "He was a drummer, played on the basketball team, great grades. Last I heard, he went to college to study engineering. Deaf people can do anything except hear. Our girl's gonna be fine."

Olivia smiled sadly, knowing he was right. If their little girl was anything like them, she'd be able to get past any challenge. People would probably think she wasn't as capable as other kids because she was deaf, but she would prove them all wrong. Olivia was sure of it.

"Did you sign, with your friend in high school?" she asked him.

"I learned bits and pieces. I still remember some, I think."

"Good. Because we'll all need to learn, if we're going to teach her."

"There's a paediatrician here who specialises with deaf children and babies," Frank said. "I'll arrange an appointment so you can talk to her about what your daughter's going to need."

"Thank you," Olivia replied. She turned to Peter. "How do you sign 'I love you'?"

He pointed to himself, crossed his arms in an X over his chest, and pointed to her. "Or like this," he said, holding up the thumb, first finger and pinky of his right hand.

Seeing her daughter looking up at her, Olivia arranged her fingers in the same way. "I love you, baby girl," she whispered, kissing her. "No matter what."

Peter looked on, amazed by how his wife had taken this on with such openness and determination. He found that his previous fears of being unable to communicate affection to his daughter were thrown out the window. He would be able to tell her he loved her – it'd just be in another language. It wouldn't have mattered if that language was ASL or Lithuanian. He'd be able to tell her.

And in the end, that was all that mattered, really.

* * *

><p>Family and friends came and went. It was hard to keep Liam occupied, but everyone made a huge effort to not make him jealous of all the attention his sister was getting. They always gave him hugs, congratulating him on becoming a big brother. He raved to everybody about how he got to cut the cord and how glad he was to have a baby sister. He was very happy, in the end.<p>

Telling people their daughter was deaf had been awkward at first, but they were encouraged by the fact that people didn't really think it changed anything. They still held her and talked to her as they would any other baby. They brought toys and food and gifts, just as they had done with Liam. Astrid had even made her a blanket. As it turned out, Astrid's little sister was autistic and struggled with speech, so she knew some basic sign language. This made Peter and Olivia feel a little less nervous about how to raise their daughter. Astrid's sister was autistic, Broyles' little boy Christopher was blind, and they'd all managed. Surely Peter and Olivia could manage too. As long as they loved their daughter and believed in her, she'd be able to do anything.

By the end of the night, her NICU pod was covered in drawings from Ella, Lucy, and Liam, with family photos and cartoon animal magnets stuck to the inside of her incubator. If she was going to be spending a month there, it had to feel like home. By now it was getting late. Rachael was minding Liam at home, and Peter and Olivia promised to come home by midnight. As they sat in their daughter's pod in the NICU, holding her hand through her incubator as she slept, they anticipated how hard it would be to leave her there. They wouldn't be staying in the hospital like last time. It'd be just too hard with Liam, they couldn't afford it (the FBI wouldn't cover as much this time around), and she was no where near as sick as Liam had been. They knew she had to stay there to get better, but it would be hard to go home without her, having to travel back and forth each day just to see her.

Olivia smiled down on her little girl, holding her hand as Peter lay a gentle hand on her head, stroking her dark hair softly. "I'm so glad she made it," she said. "After everything."

"She's a miracle," Peter agreed. "Like her brother. We've accomplished a lot together, Livia, but they may be our greatest achievement."

Olivia nodded, a thumb tracing the back of her daughter's tiny hand. "She needs a name."

"We can take our time," Peter reminded her. "She's gonna be here a while."

Olivia shook her head. "I'm not walking out of this place without her if she doesn't even have a name. I'll stay here all night if I have to." She felt so guilty about leaving her daughter. After carrying her for nine months, the idea of walking out of the hospital without her in her belly or in her arms felt unnatural.

They had a few ideas for names, but had decided to wait until she was born to pick which one suited her best. Peter spoke up. "You know, Liv…" he began, not knowing how she would take this. "I was kinda thinking we could name her after you."

Her head shot up. She stared at him for a moment. "After me?"

"Yeah," he said sincerely. He smiled, glancing between her and their daughter. "You've gone through a world of pain these past couple of years, all so we could one day have a baby sister for Liam. Even when we thought it couldn't get any worse, you didn't give up. And when you were pregnant you worked so hard to keep her healthy and bring her into the world safely. And you did it all without drugs. She's tough and she's beautiful and she gets that from you. I don't just want to give our daughter a name – I want to give her someone to look up to. And I couldn't think of anyone else to name her after but you. I'll understand if you don't want to, I just think you deserve the recognition. That's all."

"Wow…" she breathed, smiling at him. "I don't really know what to say to that."

"Say yes," he chuckled.

"I want to," she said. "But I don't think I can. It's really sweet of you, but I want her to have her own name. I get what you're saying about giving her someone to look up to, but I also don't want her to feel she has some expectation to meet, you know? I want her to know she can be her own person. She needs her own name." She gave him a demure smile, shyly kissing his cheek. "But thank you."

"OK. I guess it would get a little confusing with two Olivias bossing me around all the time," he joked, a little disappointed. "What about using Olive as her middle name? That way it's not her first name and it's not quite the same as Olivia. Fair compromise?"

Olivia knew she couldn't tell him no. She could see the idea meant a lot to him, and she had to admit, it was really sweet. "Sounds perfect," she said, kissing him. "Thank you."

"You deserve it," he replied earnestly, kissing her back. "So what about her first name?"

"Well we had like four or five favourites…" Olivia said. "What about this one?"

She proceeded to clumsily fingerspell a name, making him laugh. "You can fingerspell? Since when?"

She shrugged. "We learned the ASL alphabet in the second grade. That's pretty much all the sign language I know."

"Well, that's a start," he laughed. "I like the name, but I just don't know that she really looks like a Laura. What about this one?"

He fingerspelled another name.

She smiled. "I like it. I think it really suits her."

"So you want to go with that?"

"Only if you like it too."

"I love it," he said, grinning.

They got the paperwork from the nurses and officially named their daughter, changing the card on her incubator from that vague title of "Baby Girl" to her full name: _Ashley Olive Dunham-Bishop_.

By now it was very late, and they needed to get home to their son. It broke their hearts to leave her, but they knew she had to get better and that the wonderful nurses would care for her well. They held her and kissed her one last time. "Bye bye, Ashley," they whispered. "We love you and we'll come back to see you tomorrow, we promise."

As they walked down the halls of the hospital, Olivia's head on his shoulder, Peter couldn't help be amazed by how far they'd come. It seemed like yesterday that they were in here visiting Ella when she was born, imagining what it'd be like to get married and have their own children. It hadn't been the sunshine and rainbows experience people made it out to be, but in a way they kind of liked the chaos. Juggling saving the world and raising a family always kept them on their toes. It was hard, but they couldn't imagine their lives being any different.

She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. They had bizarre jobs and hard lives, often full of adversity, but moments like these reminded them that they were blessed. Olivia tugged on his hand to stop him in the hallway, hooking her arms around his neck and kissing him fully. Grinning, she nuzzled his nose with hers. "I love you."

He kissed her soundly in response. Things had always been better between them without words. Laughing joyously, he wrapped his arms around her and spun her around, making her gasp in surprise. "We have a daughter!" he laughed. She could only laugh along. In that moment, their future looked so bright. They knew there would be hard times ahead as always, but they could handle it – together, as a family. After all they had survived already, what could possibly stand against them?

As they stood kissing in the hallway, Peter was overwhelmed with every emotion his mind could muster. He felt elated. He felt terrified. He felt strong, like he could conquer anything. But more than that, he truly felt like this was where he was meant to be. Wherever Olivia was, he would follow. Because he belonged with her. And not just her now, but his family – he belonged with _them_.

He looked into her eyes and grinned, peppering her lips with tiny kisses. He tugged on her hand. "Let's go home," he said. She smiled and followed him, both of them walking out into the street hand in hand like they were soon to own the world.

**Please review!**

**Baby Ashley was named after my ever-awesome friend Asha-710 who has read and helped me edit every chapter I've written since the end of The Academy. Thank you a thousand times over, Ash!**

**Also, before anyone gets all angsty about making Ashley deaf, let me say I was inspired to write it because of a deaf friend of mine. He's American so I'm learning ASL rather than Auslan, and sign language is awesome! Deaf culture is so amazing – it has its own language, schools, art, theatre, dance, etc. Like Peter said, deaf people can do anything except hear! **

**Oh, and don't forget to review! : ) Only three chapters to go!**


	31. Mistake

**First of all, a quick response to Amy's question from her last review. She asked if Ashley's deafness could be corrected with surgery. The answer is no – there is no cure for deafness. With some types of deafness a cochlear implant can help the person to detect some ambient noise, but it can't make them hear normally. A deaf friend of mine (who was born hearing then became deaf as a child) once told me that when you have an implant, people talking to you sound like Donald Duck talking underwater down a long echoing tunnel – very hard to understand! You can go on the internet and listen to samples of what it sounds like to have a cochlear implant – the sound quality is very poor. Having an implant can help, but it's not a cure. Also, in deaf culture the idea of cochlear implants is sometimes considered offensive, as deaf people do not wish to see themselves as "disabled" or needing to be "corrected", rather seeing their deafness as an important part of their identity that they are comfortable with. Hope that answered your question, Amy. **

**Chap 31: Mistake**

**References: "coming to get me" (LSD), beach house (There's More Than One of Everything), "I failed a test, didn't I?" (Entrada), Peter's description of Olivia (Over There), lines from Entrada and Peter's eulogy speech (deleted scene)**

**Set in October, 2010**

It was late by the time they got back. Peter and Olivia practically dragged themselves into their apartment, completely exhausted. They hadn't been home in a week, and the case they'd just finished had been far more demanding than usual. Peter laughed a little to himself, taking Olivia's hand. "Good to be back?"

"Definitely," she replied sleepily, kissing him softly. He welcomed the affection, holding her close as his hand came up to stroke her cheek.

"We don't get paid enough for this job, do we?" he joked.

That got a little laugh from her. "Definitely not."

"Thank you for coming to get me," he told her sincerely, looking into her eyes.

"You'd do it for me."

He nodded. "You look tired," he remarked.

"Yeah." She kissed him again, a little more passionately this time. "Let's go to bed," she whispered, her hands taking hold of his jacket, tugging slightly.

"Not yet, hun," he chuckled. "We should pick up the kids."

She nodded. Bit her lip. "Right," she said softly. "Of course."

Peter let his thumb brush her cheek again. "You OK?"

"Yeah," she replied. He felt like she was forcing a smile. "Just tired."

"Well how about you stay here and order in some dinner while I go get them?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Rest up. I'll be back soon." He gave her one last kiss and headed off, driving over to Rachael's place. He was itching to see his children. Usually Olivia was the same, but she seemed quieter about them tonight. She was probably just exhausted. It had been a crazy week.

Rachael greeted him at the door. "Hi Peter. How are you?"

"Good," he replied. "Sorry for showing up so late."

"It's fine."

"Thanks so much for taking the kids for us. We really appreciate it."

"Anything we can do to help. Did everything go well with the case? You and Liv are both safe?"

"Yes, things went well and we're fine. Are the kids around?"

"Yeah, they're sleeping. Come in."

Peter followed her inside, going into the spare room where his kids had been staying. Ashley was only 15 months so he didn't want to wake her if he could help it. Liam, on the other hand, was three-and-three-quarters, so he would have to get up. Peter knelt by his son's bed and gently shook him awake. The little boy blinked his eyes open, his face lighting up. "Daddy!"

"Hey, little guy. Were you good for Aunt Rachael?"

"He was very good, don't worry, Peter," Rachael said. "They both were."

"Good. Did you and your sister have fun?" he asked Liam.

"Yeah. Aunt Rachael and Uncle Greg took us to the zoo today. We got to feed the giraffes!"

"Really? Wow! You're a lucky boy. I think you should thank Aunt Rachael again for taking care of you this week."

"Thank you, Aunt Rachael," Liam said politely.

"You're welcome, Liam."

Liam packed his things and Peter gathered up his sleeping daughter and kissed her, careful not to wake her. They said their goodbyes and thanks to Rachael again before packing up the car to go home.

"Daddy?" Liam asked on the way back, his little sister asleep in the back seat.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Where did you and Mommy go?"

"We told you buddy, your mom and I had to go to New York for work." Not exactly true. But of course, he couldn't tell his son anything else.

"Oh."

Sensing the disappointment in his son's voice, Peter turned to him. "What's wrong buddy?"

"You went without me," Liam mumbled, looking out the window.

"Oh Liam, where we went was very dangerous," Peter tried to explain. "It wouldn't have been safe for us to take you. And we spent the whole time working. It wasn't fun at all. But I promise, whenever we go somewhere fun, we will always take you with us. Like when we went to Grandpa's beach house this summer, remember?"

"Yeah."

Peter sighed. "We missed you so much, Liam. Your mom and I thought of you all the time when we were away."

"But you didn't call me."

"I know, buddy. I'm sorry. We weren't able to. But if we were allowed to, we would have called you every day." He exhaled, running a hand over his face. "Listen, Mommy's waiting for you at home. She can't wait to see you and your sister. So let's just go home and see her and we can have pizza for dinner. Would that cheer you up?"

Liam nodded. "I want to see Mommy."

"I know, buddy. She wants to see you, too. She missed you so much."

They reached their apartment building and Liam helped his Daddy carry their stuff inside as Peter carried a very sleepy Ashley. "Livia, we're home."

Olivia came down the corridor to meet them, smiling as she saw Liam. She knelt down to hug him. "Hey, sweetie. I missed you so much."

But Liam did something neither of them expected. He backed away, hiding behind Peter's leg, clinging to his Daddy for safety.

Olivia looked concerned. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"You're not her."

Peter looked down at the boy at his feet, shocked to see that Liam seemed genuinely afraid. He was starting to cry. "What are you talking about, buddy?"

"She's not my mom," he cried, clinging to Peter's leg.

"Oh honey, of course I am," Olivia said, reaching out to him.

"No! You're not her! Don't touch me!"

"Liam, stop it," Peter scolded. "You're being very rude. Of course it's your mom, she just made her hair red, that's all."

"You're lying! I want mom back! I want my mom!" Liam was distraught now. Crying. Shaking. He seemed terrified.

"Honey, it's me. I'm right here," Olivia tried to assure him, but that only made him lash out more.

"No! You're tricking me! Where's my mom?"

Olivia looked to Peter. "I'm sorry, I should have changed my hair back. I had no idea he's be like this."

"It's OK, neither did I. Look, maybe you should go have a shower or something and I'll try and calm him down and get him to sleep." Olivia looked at him hesitantly for a moment before she nodded, heading back down the corridor to the bathroom. Peter reached down and ran a gentle hand through his son's hair, shocked by his reaction. "Buddy, don't cry, you're just confused. Come on, it's past your bedtime, it's been a long day and you need to get some sleep. Why don't you help me put your baby sister to bed, huh?"

Seeing that his argument was a lost cause, Liam took the hand his father offered, gripping it tight, and following him to Ashley's room. Peter laid his daughter down in her cot, tucking the blankets tight around her and kissing her goodnight, picking up Liam so he could do the same for his baby sister.

"OK, Liam," he said, about to head off to his son's room. "Time for you to go to bed too."

"No…" Liam whimpered, tugging on Peter's pants to pull him back.

The little boy was still very upset, crying and trembling. Peter knelt before his son, an expression of concern on his face. He'd never seen his son like this. "Liam, nobody is trying to upset you. I'm not trying to trick you, or scare you, or make you sad. I'm your Dad and I love you and I wouldn't do that to you, you know that. Everything's fine. You need to calm down."

But instead of calming, Liam reacted with anger. He pounded his little fists against Peter's chest, sobbing. "What did you do with my mom? Give her back!"

"Liam, she is back," Peter insisted, holding his son's hands so he'd stop hitting him. "Her hair's just different, that's all."

"Daddy, it's not her," he cried. "She's tricking you. It's not her. "

"Shhh, Liam… It's OK…" he said softly, taking his hysterical son in his arms. But nothing would help. His boy just kept bawling. Peter didn't know what to do. Liam seemed inconsolable. He knew it couldn't be true, that this couldn't be the wrong Olivia, but he needed to be sure. Liam had always had good intuition, like his mother. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Liam, how do you know it's not her?" Peter asked.

Peter watched as his son, not even four years old yet, tried to articulate himself. "She doesn't feel right," he finally said. "She's not my mom, she's pretending. That lady's all glowy. Don't you see it?"

That word hit Peter like a tonne of bricks. He'd heard it enough times before to know what his son meant. "Glowy?"

Liam nodded. "She's glowy like you, Daddy. Mommy's not glowy. That lady's pretending."

Peter felt completely crushed. She glimmered. She was from the other side. He'd been talking to this woman, kissing this woman, and he hadn't even noticed it wasn't his wife? He shuddered at the thought that he probably would have slept with her that night if Liam hadn't said something. Sure, he'd noticed the little differences, but he brushed it off as her being tired from crossing over. It had been a terrible week for them. Walternate and Newton had found him while he was working on a case, asking him to go back to his home. He'd refused – he didn't want to leave his wife and children – but they took him at gunpoint anyway. As soon as she'd found out, Olivia had left the kids with Rachael, made up some excuse about going to work in New York, and crossed over with the others to bring him back to his real home. And now he realised that somewhere in the chaos of it all, he had come home with the wrong Olivia. They could have been doing anything to his wife over there. The thought made him sick.

Liam was still crying. "Why did you leave Mommy in New York, Daddy?" he whimpered, tugging violently on Peter's clothes. "Give her back."

Peter pulled his son close, cradling him in his arms. He couldn't imagine how scared his three year old must be – how confused. "I'm so sorry, buddy. You're right. I made a mistake. But I need you to be a brave boy for me and help me fix this, OK?"

Liam nodded, wiping his face.

Peter pulled out his phone. "Do you remember when Mommy and I taught you how to use this in case something bad happened?"

Another nod.

"I need you to call Uncle Charlie for me and tell him what's happening. Tell him to come over right now and bring the others. But you have to be quiet. When I go, lock the door and take care of your sister. Don't come out until I or Uncle Charlie tell you to, OK?"

"OK."

Peter kissed his son's forehead, his guilt overwhelming him. As he got up to leave, Liam whimpered and grabbed his clothes. "Daddy, don't go."

"I have to buddy. Just do what I told you and everything will be OK."

"I'm scared. I want mom."

"I know, buddy. Me too. It's gonna be OK," he said, and with that he left. He waited to hear his son lock the door behind him before heading back down the corridor to his wife's alternate. She was out of the shower by now, her hair wet and in new clothes. He could already sense she had put her guard up – he had to convince her it was safe to let it down again.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he said as he approached her. "I didn't think he'd freak out so much about your hair."

"No, it's my fault, I should have changed it back. He's only little, it must have confused him. Is he alright?"

"Yeah. I finally got him to calm down. He said sleeping with his sister tonight would make him feel better. Everything's fine. You want some wine?" he asked, heading into the kitchen. "I feel like we could use it after the day we had."

He saw her hesitate, but she nodded, forcing a smile. "Sure."

Using his signature charm smile, he hoped she wouldn't suspect that he knew yet. He didn't want her to feel cornered or put her in a position where she felt she needed to do something dangerous. With the kids in the house, he couldn't risk it. "Red or white, babe?"

"Whatever you want."

Another little difference. Olivia would always have chosen red, or told him to get out the whiskey instead. And more than that, she'd surely say something snappy if he ever called her "babe". He stepped into the kitchen and got a bottle from the cabinet, unsure of what to do next. Surely Charlie and the others would be here any minute. He trusted his son, but he needed to further see for himself that this wasn't his wife.

"Broyles said he's give us a couple of days off, after everything that happened this week," he said, pouring a couple of glasses.

"Great," she replied. "It'd be nice to have some time off for once."

Again, not his Olivia. His Olivia would be grateful for the opportunity to spend time with her kids, but she'd also be itching to further explore the case. She'd be asking a million questions, never satisfied. How did Walternate and Newton find Peter? Was their family safe? Were shapeshifters spying on the FBI over here? What is this machine they tried to get him to work on?

"So what do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked casually, sipping his wine, though she seemed hesitant to drink hers.

"You sound like you have something in mind," she chuckled.

He smiled. "I was thinking since we have time off maybe we could drive over to New York for the weekend, take Liam and Julie to Coney Island. I know Julie's still too small to go on the rides, but she still seemed to enjoy herself last time we took her. After this week, we could sure use some time away. What do you think?"

"Sounds like fun," she replied.

With that last confirmation, he couldn't hold back his rage anymore. As soon as she was distracted, he whipped out his gun and pointed it at her. She looked up, startled, but somehow maintained her composure. She smiled a little. "I failed a test didn't I?"

"My daughter's name is Ashley," he spat. "And we've never taken her to Coney Island. Tell me where my wife is. Now."

* * *

><p>"What happened?" Lincoln asked, charging into the Fringe office.<p>

"No idea," Peter muttered, hating himself. Charlie and some other agents had kicked down his door a few hours earlier, arresting the alternate Olivia. They had been interrogating her for ages but nothing useful had been said. Peter in the midst of it all, was still wracked with guilt and anger. "I didn't know. My fucking three year old had to tell me it wasn't her. I didn't even know."

"It's alright, Peter," Charlie said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "None of us want to believe our wife has been switched for somebody else. We'll get Olivia back."

"Where are Liam and Ashley?" Lincoln asked.

"Astrid and Walter are looking after them in the lab," Peter replied. "Liam's pretty upset. He's so confused, and scared. I don't know how I'll ever explain this to him. Ashley was asleep when it all happened but now she's upset too. You know what kids are like – she sees her brother crying then she starts crying too. But Astrid just called me, and she said their both asleep again now."

Broyles walked out of the interrogation room where they were holding his wife's alternate, a stern look on his face. "She's not talking much," he admitted, turning to Peter. "Maybe you should try."

Peter shook his head. "I'll just lose control if I go in there."

"That might actually help us," Broyles explained. "Often people like her will talk if they feel they're in a position of power or control. If we let this Olivia believe she's playing you then she might say something she shouldn't. You think you can handle that?"

"For Olivia? Of course," he said gravely, heading inside.

He found the other Olivia sitting in a chair at a table, her hands cuffed behind her. She looked strangely comfortable, like she wasn't afraid. This made him suspicious. He fought to bottle his rage and focus on the task at hand as he sat at the table opposite her, her eyes watching him closely. _Never hit a woman_, he reminded himself as he looked back at her. _Never hit a woman_…

Sensing the fury he was fighting so hard to contain, she smirked just a little. "Are you going to kill me?"

Part of him wanted to take that as an invitation, but he forced himself to calm down. "First, I'm going to get answers," he responded seriously. "And if I find out you did anything to Olivia, then I'm going to kill you."

He saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, but it didn't last long. She smirked again, softer this time. "You couldn't, even if you tried," she pointed out. "I look too much like her."

"You're _nothing_ like her," he spat. "Where's my wife?"

"I don't know."

"They must have told you something."

"They didn't. It's irrelevant to my mission." She paused for a moment, tilting her head curiously. She could tell what her alternate saw in this man. He was good-looking, strong, protective. He obviously loved her. They had kids. One boy, one girl – the 'perfect family'. She couldn't imagine herself with kids. Her life was still youthful, juggling work and drinking with friends, seeing her boyfriend and looking after her mom. Marilyn had been in a bad place recently. The seventh anniversary of Rachael's death was coming up. She wondered if her sister and niece were still alive here. Maybe her alternate really was better off than her. "What's she like?" she asked tentatively. "Me?"

He thought about that. He could tell she was genuinely curious, and part of him wondered whether she deserved to know. But his longing for his wife overpowered him, and he felt a heartbreaking need to talk about her. "Physically you look practically the same," he admitted, his voice breaking involuntarily with hurt. "She's a little darker around the eyes maybe. Haunted, I guess. She's had a hard life. But she's brave. I've never met anyone who can do the things that she does. She protects the people she cares about, loves her job, adores her kids. It's hard for us to juggle work and our family, but somehow we manage. She's amazing like that. On the job she'll be diffusing bombs and beating up suspects, but at home she's so tender and happy and loving with our children. Neither of us ever thought we'd be the type to have kids but somehow we just kind of embraced it when it happened. She's changed my life in so many ways. When we first met I was a nomad, moving from place to place, job to job. She gave me a purpose. She taught me to fight. She's everything to me."

"You love her."

"Yes. I love her and our children more than anything."

"What about the rest of her family?"

"She doesn't have much," he admitted. "Both parents have been dead for years. Her stepfather was an abusive asshole. He's still out there somewhere."

That was a surprise to her. Her father had died at war when she was young too, but her mother had never remarried. "And Rachael?" she asked, anxious to hear about her sister.

"She's fine," he replied. "Her husband works a lot in Chicago so she moves back and forth. Their daughter Ella is turning seven soon."

"Ella," she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. Despite the tenseness of the situation, she couldn't help but smile just a little. Her sister and niece were alive. All she wanted was to ask Peter if he had a photo of them with him, or some way for her to call them. But she knew that was out of the question. If her mission had gone to plan, maybe she would have had that option, but now she was caught and there was no time to indulge in such things.

So instead she asked, "What's the time?"

He looked puzzled. It was an odd question. "3:38am," he replied.

She nodded. "Alright."

"Please," he said, getting desperate now, haunted by the idea of what Walternate could be doing to his wife over there. "Where's Olivia?"

"I don't know," she repeated. "That wasn't part of my assignment."

"What was your assignment?" he asked.

She smirked again. "Come on. Like I'd tell you."

"Listen, I'm trying to help you out here," he spat. "My boss is outside right now on the phone to the CIA trying to figure out where they're going to extradite you. Once you're out of the US, there'll be no limits to what they can do to you in an interrogation. If you've got anything to tell us, you best do it now."

She shook her head, hardening up again. She had to remember that this man was her enemy. "I've got nothing to say," she said coldly.

He believed her. She was so frustrating that he knew if he stayed there for one more minute, he'd kill her. He stood up and walked out of the room, leaving her alone. When he was gone, she took a deep breath. This was harder than she thought it would be. The people who had interrogated her so far were angry, and at times she was sure they'd hurt her. But with Peter, there was something underneath that anger. He honestly loved his Olivia. They had a family together, a life, a home they'd built for themselves. For the first time, she began to question whether or not these people were really their enemies, or if they were just good people. Back home, the Secretary had made such an effort to demonise the other side, and she understood why, but now, meeting them, she wasn't so sure if his depictions were accurate.

But it didn't matter anymore. She was captured, a prisoner of war, and she just needed to get out. There was no room for sympathy here. As the minutes passed, she realised it must be almost four o'clock. She felt a tugging, stinging pain in her palms and her lower back, a soft, red light starting to glow from them. She bore through the pain, glad that the device Brandon had placed in her body as an emergency escape were kicking in. He'd obviously received the mayday message she'd given to one of the cops who arrested her – thank God they had shapeshifters in law enforcement on this side.

Seeing the light in her palms grow brighter and brighter, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

><p>Peter practically ran into the lab a week later. "Astrid!" he called, seeing her. "Are the kids here?"<p>

"Yeah, they're in the back eating ice cream with Walter. What's going on?"

"Broyles just called. They found Olivia."

"What?" she gasped. "Oh my God. What happened?"

"I don't know. They said she had a seizure, she's in the hospital," he said, walking to the back office to find his kids playing with their grandfather.

"Daddy!" Liam exclaimed, running over to hug him, little Ashley following close behind.

Peter took him tightly in his arms, completely overwhelmed. If it wasn't for this little boy's abilities, who knows what his wife's alternate could have gotten away with. Even though she escaped, he was glad that he'd been made away she wasn't his wife early on. He could have gone weeks without realising. "Hey, Liam," he whispered into the boy's shaggy blond hair, kissing him softly.

Ashley followed and Peter hugged her as well, signing to her, '_Hey, sweetheart_.'

'_Hi Daddy_!' she signed back, clumsily kissing his cheek. That girl adored him so much. She was only 15 months old and she had his hair, but the rest of her was all Olivia.

"Where's Mommy?" Liam asked, signing at the same time.

The question still broke his heart. His kids must have asked him that a hundred times a day for the past week. What could he say? How could he possibly explain this to them? They cried for her at night, the children sleeping in their parents' bed with Peter for comfort, but he had no answers to soothe them. It had been a terrible time.

"Mommy's back," Peter said, signing so Ashley could follow the conversation.

"Really?" Walter asked, his face lighting up. He'd worried about his daughter-in-law so much. "That's marvellous son."

"Is she OK?" Liam asked.

"She's a bit sick, Liam. She's in the hospital but the doctors are going to make her all better."

"Can we see her?" Liam asked as he signed.

"Maybe we should let her rest a bit first, Liam."

"No…" Liam whined. "I wanna see her now."

He sighed and nodded, running a hand over his face. After everything his son had been through this week, he deserved to see his mother. '_What about you, Ashley?_' he signed. '_You want to go see Mommy?_'

She nodded, reaching out to him so he'd pick her up. He held her close and started to head out. Astrid and Walter drove them to the hospital, which he was grateful for. What came next was hours and hours of waiting. The doctors said the seizure left her with no permanent damage – she just needed to rest and wake up when she was ready. So they waited in her room, Ashley dozing peacefully beside her mother in bed, while Liam was curled up asleep in his father's lap. But Peter refused to sleep himself. He watched over his children and his wife, silently begging her to wake up, please wake up. He knew she would have found a way back from the other side. She'd been abducted three or four times in her career, and each time she'd found a way out. The woman was simply unstoppable.

Without Liam's confirmation, he could already tell that this was the right Olivia. She still had the red hair, but there was something softer about her, something more fragile. She looked peaceful as she rested, her daughter beside her. He'd woken up next to her enough times to know what she looked like when she slept. He knew that face. She was beautiful. She was his.

It was about 6am when she finally woke. Sunrise. She opened her eyes groggily, taking in her surroundings. By this point Peter was on the verge of tears. She smiled at him softly. "Hey," she whispered. Her voice was broken, soft. But the eyes were unmistakable. It was her.

"Hey," he replied. "Do you want me to wake the kids?"

"No," she replied. "Let them sleep." Seeing little Ashley curled up beside her in bed, she smiled a little, brushing some hair away from her forehead so she could kiss her softly. She closed her eyes, savouring the feel of her little girl beside her – she'd missed her daughter so much.

Peter looked on, unable to stop himself from smiling even though he was on the verge of tears. Liam still sleeping in his arms, Peter didn't want to wake his exhausted son, setting him down to sleep in the armchair instead as he approached his wife. He hesitantly sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out to tuck some hair behind her ear, almost to prove to himself that she was real. "Did they hurt you?" he choked.

She forced a tiny smile. "Peter, I'm fine." That wasn't a 'no'. He prayed it wasn't a 'yes' either, but knowing her, he couldn't help but assume that she was just trying to be strong. They had hurt her. Of course they had. But they could get through it together – at least, that was what he hoped.

"I missed you," he told her, his thumb stroking her cheek. "The kids missed you." He ran a hand over his face, trying to fight the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. In the midst of the feelings of joy at having her back, he also felt helplessness and unspeakable rage. And guilt. He hadn't realised it wasn't her. And even when he had found out, he hadn't been able to save her. Somehow, he managed to look her in the eye. "I'm so sorry, Olivia."

She shook her head, smiling just a little. "Don't apologise," she whispered. "You were the only thing that got me through. If it wasn't for you, I would never have made it back."

Just as he was about to respond, Liam stirred on the couch. Seeing Olivia, his face lit up completely. "Mommy?" he gasped, running to her.

Peter stopped him gently before he could jump onto the bed. "Be careful, Liam," he said. "Mommy needs to rest and your baby sister is sleeping."

"Peter, it's OK," Olivia said, just wanting to be with her son. "Come here, Liam."

The little boy crawled up onto the bed to hug her. Briefly letting go of her daughter, she held him close. She could feel Liam clinging to her, his face buried against her shoulder. "Mommy, it's really you," he whimpered, trying not to cry as he was finally reunited with her.

"Yes, little one, it's me," she told him sincerely, pulling back to wipe his tears. "Don't cry, Liam. It's OK. I'm back now, and I'm fine."

"I missed you, Mommy," he cried, wiping his eyes.

"I know, sweetheart," she replied, fighting tears herself. "I missed you too."

"Where did you go, Mommy? Did you leave us? Did Daddy forget about you and leave you in New York?"

"No, Liam," she said, looking him in the eye so he'd understand. "I didn't leave you. I'll never leave you and your sister. And what happened wasn't your Daddy's fault," she assured him, looking to Peter so he wouldn't blame himself, but she knew he would. "Daddy would never forget about me. Something bad happened, but that doesn't matter anymore because I'm here now and everything's OK. So don't be sad, Liam. It's alright."

She held him again and sang softly to him like she always did when she was upset, and thankfully she managed to keep him from crying any more. She felt for the boy – he was only three and three quarters after all, and she couldn't imagine how confused he must have been while she was gone. Once Liam was cheered up, he turned to shake Ashley, who was still sleeping by Olivia's side. "Ashley, wake up! Mommy's home!"

"No Liam, don't -"

But Peter's protest came too late. 15 month old Ashley was well and truly awake now, starting to cry. It would take a while to get her back to sleep now. "Liam, what have we told you?" Peter asked in frustration. "Your sister's only little. She gets very sad when you wake her up."

But in the end it didn't matter. Ashley took one look up at her mother, soaking in her smell and her comforting touch, and that was enough to make her smile. '_Mommy!_' she signed, hugging Olivia.

Olivia laughed, holding her daughter close. '_Hi Ashley!_' she signed back. '_I missed you very much when I was away. I love you._'

Ashley was still learning her language, mostly only knowing nouns, but that last phrase she understood. Giggling, she pointed to herself, crossed her arms over her chest, then pointed to Olivia: _I love you_. Unable to stop smiling at her giggly little girl, Olivia tenderly kissed her forehead. Ashley then proceeded to proudly show her the sign for "_kiss_" (Ashley's cutest sign in Olivia's opinion), making Olivia laugh. '_Good girl_', she signed, so proud of how quickly her daughter was learning.

Seeing Olivia be a mother to their children once again made Peter's heart race. He felt so lucky – so overwhelmingly lucky – to have his whole family back together again. Leaning over, he brushed some hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered. So many emotions rushed through him in that moment. He was grateful to have her back, terrified of what had happened to her and guilty that he had been unable to recognise her alternate as different. Questions plagued his brain but they would have to wait. In the midst of it all, as he looked into her eyes, he only knew one thing for certain – he would die before he ever made this mistake again.

**Please review! Only two chapters left, people! I'm trying to finish the story before the season 4 premiere so this will be quick. **


	32. A Storm is Coming

**Chap 32: A Storm is Coming**

**July 2011 **

**References: number stations (6955kHz), counting cars, Peter hating to dance (Brown Betty), bald boy (Inner Child), end conversation (6955kHz)**

Olivia walked into the lab, looking for Astrid and Walter to ask about progress on the case. "Hey," Astrid said, seeing her.

"Hey. How's it going down here?"

"We still haven't cracked the code," Astrid said, her voice reflecting her disappointment. "Walter thinks they might have something to do with the machine Walternate told Peter about. But I've gone over the records from the number stations again and again but I can't seem to find a pattern."

"You will," Olivia encouraged her. "These things take time."

Astrid smiled softly and nodded, looking over the scrawled numbers on her whiteboard once more before running a hand through her hair, exhausted.

"You want a doughnut?" Olivia asked, handing her a box of them. "I thought you and Walter could use the sugar."

"Thanks, Olivia," she replied warmly, taking one.

"Where is Walter?"

"Out counting cars. It helps jog his memory, apparently."

"Oh."

"How are things going at the Federal Building?"

"Slowly," Olivia admitted. "I think we're just as stuck as you are. But I'm about to go on a lunch break, so I have to go meet Peter and Ashley in the park soon. You want to come?"

"Not today. I'm sorry, I just really need to get stuck into this code. But I'll see her another day."

"That's OK. It's great having her in preschool at the Federal Building, being able to see her at lunch and stuff."

"It must be nice for you and Peter. How's Liam going at school?"

"He hates it," Olivia laughed. "He's like Peter that way. He's only been there two weeks and he's already proven himself to be a troublemaker."

"He's a smart kid though," Astrid said. "He probably finds everything too easy and is just bored so he acts out. He'll get used to it soon enough."

"I hope so,' Olivia replied. "Look, I have to go to lunch, but call me if you learn anything, OK?"

"Sure. Give Ashley a hug from me" Astrid said.

"I will," Olivia replied as she headed off.

* * *

><p>Peter went downstairs to the preschool centre on the third floor of the Federal Building to pick up Ashley. When he found her, she was at a table by herself, colouring in some pictures. He felt for her. Before Liam started school, she had her big brother to play with her here, but now she was alone. She was a sweet kid, smart and adventurous, but it was hard when other kids couldn't communicate with her. A few months ago, it wasn't that big an issue, as the other kids weren't speaking a lot either, but now she was two, and other kids her age were speaking in small sentences while she was yet to say her first word. But that didn't mean she was behind in her learning. She could sign more words than most two year olds could speak.<p>

Peter knelt down and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. '_Hi Ashley_!' he signed. She'd only recently been given a name sign. In deaf culture it was a rule that only another deaf person could give you a distinct sign for your name. The whole family had been learning to sign at a community-run ASL program, and after months of getting to know Ashley and her parents, Ashley's teacher had come up with a sign name for her. It was the sign for "A" for Ashley in one hand, the other hand resting over it and both hands being placed over her heart – a personalised variation of the sign meaning "beloved" or "dearly loved". It was a simple sign so it was easy for Ashley to pick up, but it also meant a lot to Peter and Olivia. After Ashley's time in the hospital as a baby and all the miscarriages before her, they truly considered themselves be blessed in having her.

The little girl giggled. '_Hi Daddy_!' she signed back, hooking her arms around his neck. He smiled, stroking her hair as she hugged him. It was brown like his, but dead straight like Olivia's. She had her mother's green eyes too. She pulled back and he kissed her forehead, making her smile. These two were absolutely smitten with each other – they always had been, from the beginning.

'_How's my darling girl?_ _Are you having fun today?'_

She shrugged a little, looking back at the paper as she kept drawing.

He tapped her shoulder again. _'I know you miss Liam, Ashley. But he has to go to school with the big kids now. You'll get to big school soon enough too,_' he told her. '_You hungry?_'

She nodded. '_Go to park?_'

'_Yes, Ashley. We're going to the park for lunch._' He picked her up and held her close to walk her out of there but she shook her head, wriggling in his arms.

She waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. '_Down_,' she signed. '_I walk_.'

Chuckling at how insistent she could be, he put her down and held her hand as they walked out of the building over to the park. On the street, he held her hand extra tight. Ashley was adventurous and curious like her mother, always running off where she wasn't supposed to go. Any two year old had to be watched over on the street, but especially Ashley. She couldn't hear cars, and often she'd forget there were there.

They met up with Olivia and found a picnic table by the playground to eat. Ashley was antsy the whole time, watching the other kids running around. '_I play now?_' she kept signing to Olivia.

'_Eat your fruits first_,' Olivia signed back.

Ashley quickly ate her apple slices and grinned. She happily twisted her hands outward in the air, the sign for '_Finished_!'

Olivia laughed. '_Good girl. Now you can go play_.'

Ashley giggled and was about to run off when Olivia waved in front of her face to get her attention. '_Ashley_,' she signed. '_Be careful_.'

Stubbornly independent like her mother, Ashley rolled her eyes a little in an 'I'll be fine!' sort of way and walked over to the playground, quickly finding a younger baby to play with, around 18 months. She got on better with kids who weren't great talkers yet, but really she was a very social girl. She made friends wherever she went - adaptable, like her father.

"Do you think she knows?" Olivia asked Peter, sipping her coffee as they watched her play.

"Knows what?"

"That she's different."

Peter sighed. "I think she's starting to figure it out. Six months ago the other kids at preschool weren't talking a lot either so it wasn't a problem, but now… Yeah, she knows."

"Did she seem OK when you picked her up from preschool?"

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe a little lonely – she's not playing with the others so much any more. I think she misses having Liam around too."

"That must be hard for her."

"We'll have to start looking at schools for her over the next couple of years too," Peter said, watching his daughter giggle as she played in the sandpit with the other little girl.

"Won't we just send her to Liam's school?"

"I don't know that that's the best thing. We should try and find a deaf school here in Boston."

"Peter, we can't afford that kind of specific schooling."

"We can ask Walter to help us out if we need to. He owns Massive Dynamic now, he has the money."

"We can't ask that of him. We could never pay it back."

"Livia, he's my father," Peter laughed. "He's Ashley's grandfather. He adores that girl. Knowing him, he'd help us pay for her schooling in a heartbeat and never ask for it back."

"Still…" Olivia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe it'd be good to go to Liam's school anyway. Ashley's smart. She can do everything other kids can except hear. She's just as capable as anyone else at that school. Plus she'll have her brother. She can't stay in a deaf bubble forever where she only talks to people who sign. She has to make other friends."

"I agree but not now. Her first years at school are the most important, where she learns her basic skills. She could get totally lost in a hearing classroom and be left years behind. A deaf school would be designed for kids like her. She'd learn a lot faster, understand her teachers, do speech therapy and all that. And frankly I think it could do a lot for her self esteem to actually see another deaf kid every once in a while. I know she's been starting to notice she's different, but I don't want it to get to the point where she thinks there's something _wrong_ with her. Maybe if she gets to be with other deaf kids all day she won't feel so alone."

Olivia sighed, nodding. "That makes sense. But I still think at some point she'll need to learn to communicate with hearing people who don't sign. Maybe she should go to elementary school at a deaf school and then if she wants to she can go to Liam's middle school and high school later on."

"Sounds like a plan. We'll just see how we go. She's always around hearing people already. I know our family signs, but she plays with Ella and Lucy all the time, and they don't sign. Whatever we do, she'll be OK. She's tough."

Olivia smiled. "I know."

Out of nowhere, Ashley hurtled towards them at full speed, running straight into Olivia's legs. She waved excitedly up at Olivia. '_Mommy!'_ she signed, pointing behind them to where a band that was busking.

Olivia smiled, kneeling down so her daughter could see her clearly. '_You want to go watch?_'

Ashley nodded.

'_Come on, let's go_!' Olivia signed, taking the little girl's hand. They walked with Peter over to the small crowd surrounding the band. These guys were incredible. They were probably only around college age, but they could play so well. Peter looked down at his daughter, overjoyed to see the look of awe on her face. His little girl loved music. He'd play it for her all the time at home, letting her muck around on the piano with him or placing his iPod speakers against her belly so she'd giggle at the vibrations. He wanted to sign something to her, but it would have been pointless. She couldn't take her eyes off the band.

But then he realised it wasn't just the musicians that had her attention. With them were a bunch of big amplifiers blasting their music. Ashley let go of Olivia's hand, placing her hands against the pavement, as if the music was reverberating through the ground. Peter waved to get her attention. '_Can you feel that_?' he signed.

She nodded, giggling. She had this look of astonishment on her face, like she'd never felt music to this extent before. From what Peter could remember, she hadn't. He played music for her at home all the time, but she'd never felt anything this loud before. The song that they were playing finished and Ashley immediately felt loss, whining a little and looking up at Peter in shock. The crowd started clapping and Olivia knelt down to Ashley, handing the little girl a dollar. '_Go give this to one of the boys_,' Olivia signed, pointing to the musicians.

Ashley suddenly got adorably shy. She hesitated for a moment before one of the guys beckoned her over. He was young, only 17 or 18. He knelt down as she approached, shyly handing him the dollar. He then did something none of them expected. He touched his chin with the tips of his fingers, letting his hand tip out towards her – the sign for '_thank you_'. Peter and Olivia were surprised that this kid knew ASL, but Ashley just smiled a little, dropping her head, still shy. '_What's your name_?' the boy signed to her.

She gave him her name sign, which he couldn't understand because each name sign is specific to each person. Peter waved to get his attention. '_Her name's A-S-H-L-E-Y_,' he signed, fingerspelling the name.

'_Cool_,' the boy signed back. '_Sorry, I learned ASL in high school, so my signing's not too good._'

'_No worries_,' Peter replied.

The boy took Ashley's hand and laid it against one of the speakers, playing another song for her as his friends continued to play another song. Ashley's face lit up at the feel of the beat, fast and potent against her palms. '_Feels good?_' the boy asked. She could only giggle in response. The boy started playing for her, letting her see how his bass guitar contributed to the sound she was feeling. Ashley's eyes went wide - she was simply mesmerised by him.

Watching this in amazement, Peter laughed. "I think Ash just met her new hero." Olivia, on the other hand, was speechless. Ashley looked so happy. Olivia had never seen her daughter fall in love with anything like she'd fallen in love with music, especially when Peter would play rock music nice and loud for her at home. While she was glad that Ashley had interests and passions so early in life, it broke her heart that she couldn't hear the music she loved so much.

Ashley giggled, beckoning Peter over. '_Daddy, dance with me!_'

Peter had to laugh. He was a musical guy, always playing the piano and sharing his favourite music with Ashley at home, but he hated to dance. That being said, for the two most important ladies in his life he would always make an exception. "Go on," Olivia teased, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave her a quick glare before laughing some more, turning back to Ashley. '_I'd love to, darling girl._' He took her hands and they began to dance. It wasn't impossible for a deaf kid to dance - all you really need is a beat, and Ashley could feel that well enough through the vibrations in the ground. She giggled hysterically when Peter twirled her around, her dress twirling with her as she grinned up at her Daddy. Whenever they were doing goofy stuff like this, he felt especially blessed to have a daughter. He and Liam were also very close, always playing and talking about guy stuff, but he and his daughter shared something special. Liam loved his father like they were best friends, while Ashley loved Peter in a way that was completely adorable, tender and sweet. As for whether or not they'd end up sending her to the deaf school, he and Olivia could figure out what was best for their daughter later. They had time. For now, as long as they believed in her and loved her, Ashley would be happy. In the end, that's all they ever wanted for her.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Peter," Lincoln said, stopping buy his desk. "I just got off the phone with Massive Dynamic. They said they still haven't made any progress on cracking the cod from the number stations. What about you?"<p>

"No, nothing yet," Peter admitted. "I swear, this code's killing me. I just can't figure it out. Astrid's having no luck with it either."

"And Walter still thinks it might have something to do with that machine Walternate told you about?"

"That's his guess. But we won't know until we crack it."

Just then, Olivia walked over, looking like she was freaking out. "Honey, what's wrong?" Peter asked.

"Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you."

"You're doing it again," Charlie said from his desk next to Peter's.

"Doing what?" she replied.

"Signing when you talk. You always do it when you're really nervous – it's a habit. What's up, Livvy?"

"Liam's school just called. He's in the principal's office."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "He's definitely my kid," he joked. "What did he do?"

"I don't know. They wouldn't say. They just said it's serious and they need one of us to come pick him up. Can someone tell Broyles I need an hour to take care of this?"

"Sure," Lincoln replied.

"He's been at school two weeks and he's already in the principal's office," Peter laughed. "I think that's a record."

"You're laughing," Olivia said in disbelief. "How the hell can you be laughing? This is serious! He must have done something terrible. I bet he broke some really expensive equipment. Or stole a teacher's wallet. Or beat up a child."

"Honey, take a breath," he laughed, approaching her and cupping her face in his palm. "Can you honestly see Liam doing any of that?"

"No," she admitted. "I'm just kind of freaking out here. You know he hates school and he's been acting out lately. He must have done something really bad to get in trouble like this."

"Livia, he's not even five years old yet," he said. "How bad can it be?"

* * *

><p>"You started a <em>fire<em>?" Olivia yelled as she left the school with her son, having spent the last hour shamelessly begging the principal not to suspend or expel him. "Damn it, Liam, what were you thinking?"

"It was an accident!"

"I don't even know what to say to you right now. _You started a fire_?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"I can't believe this," Olivia muttered, running a hand through her hair. "You've been at school two weeks, Liam. _Two weeks_! The only reason the principal didn't suspend or expel you is because he couldn't prove you were the one who did it. But that doesn't mean you're getting off easy. You're still in big trouble from me and Daddy, you understand that, right?"

"Uh-huh," Liam whimpered, wiping his eyes.

Olivia stopped, suddenly realising she'd made the four year old cry. Cursing herself for letting her emotions take over, she knelt beside him and made him look at her. "Liam, I'm sorry for yelling," she said. "But what you did today was very dangerous. You could have been hurt, or hurt someone else. Daddy and I have told you not to play with matches or lighters – it's not safe. If you find them somewhere, just leave them alone. And I know you don't like school but that doesn't mean you can go around causing trouble all the time. If someone is bothering you at school, you can tell someone about it instead of setting their locker on fire."

"I didn't want to!" Liam cried. "It just happened!"

Olivia eyed him closely, seeing that he was genuinely distressed. Her son was a trouble-maker like his father, but he was not a liar. "Liam," she said softly, running a hand tenderly through his shaggy blond hair. "I need you to tell me what happened. Tell me everything and tell me the truth."

Liam choked on a sob. "You won't believe me."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?"

"It sounds stupid."

"Tell me anyway," she said. "I'm your mom and I'll always believe you, Liam."

Liam thought about it, wiping his face. "You can't tell anybody."

"I promise."

He looked to see that nobody was around, and leaned a little closer, like he was about to share the heaviest secret of his life. Then he whispered, "I have superpowers, OK?"

Any other mother would have thought their kid had just been reading too many comic books, but Olivia felt her stomach drop. This was the day she and her husband had always feared. His inherited Cortexiphan abilities were finally kicking in. It broke Olivia's heart. All she'd ever wanted was for Liam and Ashley to be normal kids. Now she knew they'd have a childhood of confusion and separation, just like she did.

"Liam, I believe you," she assured him. "But I need you to tell me what happened. It's OK. I won't get mad. I just need you to tell me."

Liam bit his lip, not so differently to the way she often did when she was nervous. "I was getting my lunch box from my locker," he said, looking at the ground. "And some boys came and started saying mean things. They made fun of me coz they saw me before school talking with my hands with Ashley. I said that's the way she talks but then one of them called us freaks and I got mad. I pushed him, and he pushed me back, and we started fighting."

"Liam, we've told you not to fight if you can help it. I know you were trying to stand up for your baby sister and that's really nice, but fighting isn't the best way to do it."

"I know, Mommy. I'm sorry. But he was being mean."

She sighed. "OK. What happened next?"

"His friends started fighting me too," he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Did they beat you up?" she asked worriedly, checking him for bruises and finding little scuff marks on him but nothing serious.

"Kinda. When they left I was still really angry. Then I felt all weird. My skin got all hot and it was really scary." He started to cry again, hiding his face in his hands.

"It's OK, Liam. You can tell me."

"I tried to make it stop," he cried. "But everything just kept getting hotter. Then that mean boy's locker caught on fire. It just happened, Mommy, I swear. I tried so hard, but it wouldn't stop..."

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, little one," she said, holding him close.

He cried against her shoulder, clinging to her. "My hands were on fire," he sobbed. "I thought I was gonna die."

"Shh…" she whispered. "You're fine now. It's OK. It wasn't your fault. Can you keep a secret?"

She felt him nod.

"I used to light fires when I was little, too."

"Really?" he whimpered.

She nodded. "Every time I got scared. It sounds like yours happen when you get angry." She sighed, pulling back and wiping the tears from his face. "You need to keep this a secret, but I'm going to see if Grandpa can find a way to help you, OK? We're going to figure this out."

Liam nodded, his tears slowing.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Liam, you hear me? This isn't your fault," she assured him. "Look, I have to go back to work, but how about we go to the lab with Grandpa and Astrid so you can play with Ashley?"

For the first time in their conversation, Liam managed a hint of a smile. "OK." He took her hand as they walked back to the car.

"Ashley really misses you in preschool, you know," she said, smiling down at him.

"I miss her too," he said softly, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

* * *

><p>Olivia sighed as she washed up after dinner, a million worries plaguing her mind. She'd changed into casual clothes, her gun locked away in the safe where the kids couldn't get to it. Liam and Ashley were off watching cartoons in the living room – she could hear them laughing together. She was glad that after the events of the day, her kids were at least happy. Hearing Peter stop cleaning the kitchen around her, she felt him approach her from behind to wrap his arms around her waist, kissing her shoulder softly. "Livia, it's going to be OK."<p>

Closing her eyes, she shook her head, not knowing what to say.

"Hey…" he murmured, turning her to face him. He tenderly tucked some hair behind her ear. "Today kind of freaked you out, huh?"

She nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "But Liam's fine now. We'll talk to Walter about it and see if there's a way for him to help."

"I don't want him experimenting on my son," she insisted. "Not after what he did to me. I won't let him."

"I don't want that either, Livia. But Walter can be really helpful when he tries to be. If we just let him do some thinking on this, he might be able to teach Liam how to control his abilities – like how he helped me with my nightmares when I was a kid. Or even just answer some of Liam's questions about it all. It might be good for him."

"I just…" She felt Peter cup her cheek, leaning into his touch for comfort. "I never wanted this for him."

"I know, Livia. It's not your fault."

He kissed her softly, hoping that he had convinced her of that, but he knew she would blame herself. After all, Liam had inherited these abilities from her. But he knew it was Walter's doing, really.

"Peter…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that case we did last year, about the little boy we found underground?"

"Yeah. The bald kid. He was sweet. The kids liked playing with him in the lab. What made you think of that?"

She swallowed, fighting tears. "Do you remember how that guy from the CIA came, pretending to be DSS, so they could take him away and study him?"

"Oh, Liv…" he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her hair. "Nobody's going to come for Liam. And even if they did, they'd never take him from us."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'd kill anybody who tried. You know that."

"Peter, I'm being serious."

"So am I. If the CIA ever came for our kids, you know Broyles and everybody else in Boston's Fringe Division would fight tooth and nail to stop them. We'd never let it happen. They're _our_children. OK?"

She nodded, blinking tears away and kissing him softly. "OK."

He kissed her once more and pulled back, smiling. "Come on. Let's spend some time with the kids before they have to go to bed." Taking her by the hand, they walked back out into the living room to hang out with Liam and Ashley. They let them stay up a little later than usual, since Liam had had such a hard day.

After a while, thunder began to rumble in the distance, lightning setting cracks in the sky. It was a bad one – one of the worst in a while. Liam was always a little scared by the storms - the roar of the thunder, the cracking sound of the lightning. There had been so many of them in recent months, even though it was summer - huge lightning storms that would start fires and cause enormous damage all up and down the east coast. Liam cuddled a little closer to Olivia on the couch. "Storm's coming, Mommy."

"I know, Liam. It's OK. It won't come near here."

Ashley on the other hand was mesmerised. She climbed up on top of a table so she could see out the window, her hands pressed against the glass as she stared out. Peter came over, picking her up instead. The storms never scared her, really. Unless Liam got really upset – then she'd be upset too. She couldn't hear the thunder, the wind or the lightning, so she just liked all the lights.

'_Look, Daddy_,' she signed to Peter, pointing outside.

He waved a little to make her look at him. '_Copy me_,' he signed. '_S-T-O-R-M. Storm._'

'_Storm_,' she signed back, copying the hand motion he was teaching her.

Peter and Ashley watched the lightning crack over the more distant suburbs of Boston, the flashes illuminating the sky. Suddenly the apartment was plunged into darkness, the lights and electricity cut off.

"Mom!" Liam exclaimed, startled by the darkness.

"It's OK, Liam, I'm right here."

"Damn it," Peter muttered. This was their third blackout this month. Ashley whimpered a little too, clinging to her Daddy. "It's OK, baby," he said. He knew she couldn't hear him, but whispering comforting things to her was just a habit. To be fair, she couldn't see him signing either. He held her a little tighter and kissed her hair, going on a search for matches as Olivia comforted Liam.

He went into the kitchen with Ashley, feeling around for some candles and matches. But before he could light them, Ashley buried her face in his shoulder, clearly upset. "I know it's dark, baby. I'm sorry," he said, rubbing her back.

"Da," she whimpered.

Peter pulled back, startled. "Ashley?" he asked in shock, cupping her face in his hand. "Honey, did you just talk?"

"Dada," she cried, still very upset.

"Oh my God," he laughed, stunned by the sound of her voice. They'd only ever signed with her, speaking at the time so she could see spoken language as well, but they'd never pressured her to speak when she didn't want to. Peter felt like he'd struck oil. He'd heard her voice before – heard her laugh and cry – but he'd never heard her attempt to _speak_. The pronunciation was off, but he didn't care. She was speaking to him, at two years old. Her first word. "Ashley, you're talking!"

He felt ridiculous talking to her knowing that she was deaf, but frankly he didn't care. He was so overjoyed. Despite the odd sound of her words, he thought her voice was perfect. But her anxious cries brought him back down to earth. She hated the dark – since she couldn't hear, all her security was in her sight. "Sorry, baby," he said, lighting the candles. "I got a little carried away there." The light calmed her down considerably. In the soft, orange glow of the candlelight, he wiped her tears, laughing with joy as he did so. "Don't cry, Ashley. It's not dark anymore. Daddy's right here."

Smiling weakly, she reached for him, pressing her little hands against his face. He smiled. '_Are you OK?_' She nodded, and he tucked some hair behind her ear. '_I'm sorry that was scary, Ashley. But everything's OK now_,' he signed. '_I love you_.'

'_I love you too, Daddy_,' she signed back.

Beaming, he gave her a kiss. '_Come on_,' he signed, picking up a couple of candles with one hand as he held her close with the other. They set up candles around the house, making Liam and Ashley less upset about the storm. But with the thunder and lightning still raging in the sky, the kids were too nervous to go to their rooms alone. By the time the power came back on, both kids were fast asleep in their parents' bed, Olivia and Peter watching over them.

"I'll put them back to bed," Peter said, gently lifting each child and carrying them back to their rooms. Olivia followed, tucking them in and kissing them both.

She ran a hand through her hair. "You want a drink?" she asked. "It's been a kind of a shitty day."

"Sure."

"Red OK?" she asked as they headed into the kitchen.

"Fine." He got a couple of glasses as she opened up a bottle. "Livia…" he said as she poured.

"Yeah?"

"You're probably not going to believe this," he laughed a little, sipping his wine and letting his thumb brush her cheek. "But Ashley spoke to me tonight."

"Are you serious?" Olivia asked. "You mean, with her voice?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, just as shocked himself.

Olivia smirked. "Well are you gonna tell me what she said or not?"

"She called me 'Dada' – you know, like Liam did when he was a baby. I couldn't believe it. It was during the blackout, I couldn't see her signing and she was scared. She has a beautiful voice, Livia."

"Wow," Olivia breathed. "How come you didn't tell me before?"

"Liam was still really upset about the storm. I didn't want him to feel like we were disregarding that so we could be all happy about his sister, you know? I also didn't want him to get all excited and try and make her speak again. She's not ready for that kind of pressure."

"Still, this is a big deal. I didn't expect this to happen for a few years, if ever. Talking to the other parents at the ASL class, some of their kids started trying out sounds as babies and others are 12 and still have absolutely no speech. I think whether you grow up in a speaking or signing family probably makes a difference. Ashley always seemed really comfortable with just signing, so I guess I figured she wouldn't want to talk for a while."

"Well, just because she said one word, it doesn't mean she's talking. This will take time. And if she decides she's not comfortable speaking then that's OK. It's just like what we said about the cochlear implant and mainstream schools – it's her choice. We won't force her either way. If she hits the age of seven or eight or ten or whatever and decides she wants to try those things, then that's fine by us. It'll be the same with how she chooses to communicate."

"She's only two. We've got time to figure it all out." Olivia smiled a little, kissing him. "Although I do think it's very cute that she decided on you to be her first word."

"Jealous?" he teased.

She hit him playfully. "No. But she adores you. It's sweet."

"I know," he replied with a pensive smile. "I love her too."

Olivia nodded, just as pensive, not really feeling the need to add to that. She was so glad that Ashley and Liam had Peter for a father. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he'd really stepped up for her and the kids. She'd heard people say that girls are often attracted to men who resemble their fathers' character, and she hoped that, if that was true, Ashley would find someone like Peter. Having grown up without her father, Olivia was intensely grateful that Peter was Ashley's. That girl couldn't have done better.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "We should get that paperwork done."

Peter groaned. "Can't we rest tonight, sweetheart?" he teased, wrapping his arms around her and peppering kisses along her neck and shoulder. "Please? You know you want to…"

She laughed, the sound reverberating against his body. "I'd love to. But we can't. Between the number stations case, these storms and the latest vortex, there's just too much to keep up with."

"I know," he sighed.

She turned in his arms, her hands resting over his at her stomach, his chin on her shoulder. They looked out the window together, watching the catastrophic lightning storm come closer and closer.

"The world's dying," she murmured.

There was nothing Peter could say to that. No sarcastic joke. No comforting word. It was just too true. Their world was collapsing, falling in on itself. They were two of the few who knew it, and were in a race to stop it. But Peter knew, deep in his gut, that they were probably already too late.

"What if Walter's right?" she asked. "He's concerned about finding and building this machine. What if it really means the destruction of one universe or the other? I mean if it were up to us, and us alone to defend this side…We'd have no choice, right?"

Peter sighed, holding her a little closer. "There are billions of innocent people over there. Just like here. People with jobs, families, lives. Whatever my part in this is… I've got to believe there's another way." Her kissed her temple, trying not to look at the approaching storm. "There's always hope, right?"

She smiled a little. She hoped he was right – that there really was another way. If there was one, they were running out of time to find it.

**Please review! Only one chapter to go!**


	33. The Boy Was Important

**At last, we have come to the end of this trilogy…**

**Before we begin, I need to say an emphatic thank you to everyone who has read these fics, especially those of you who have stuck with me from that first chapter of The Academy through Boston all the way to the end of To Build a Home. I can honestly say that when I started The Academy I never intended to write a sequel, and I definitely never intended to write a sequel to **_**that**_** sequel. I've been writing this trilogy for almost one and a half years, so thanks to all the reviewers who encouraged me to keep going. **

**That being said, if you've just read this story and you haven't read The Academy or Boston yet, I encourage you to do so, just so this story makes a little more sense to you (though this chap carries some spoilers for you). I'm particularly proud of Boston because it gave me the opportunity to write about some issues very close to my heart. I hope you have learned something from this trilogy – whether it's about human trafficking or deaf culture or NICU life. I put a lot of research into my writing so I hope that's been evident.**

**I plan to take a break from writing since I'm busy with uni and I'm heading to Africa soon, but I hope to keep writing Fringe fics in the future. **

**Also, an enormous thank you to my friend asha710 who has been reading and helping me edit my chapters for about a year. These stories wouldn't be as good as they are without her last minute suggestions and ideas, so thanks again Ashley. **

**So without further ado, I must continue in my tradition of giving you a last minute super speedy recap of the trilogy, just to refresh your memory before we finish it all. If you haven't read The Academy or Boston, just skip those bits to avoid spoilers.**

**The Academy (recap):**

Olivia goes to Quantico for FBI training. Charlie is her roommate. They go to the Whitehorse and meet fellow students John, Astrid, Charlie, Kent, Brandon and Amy. Olivia meets cool bartender Peter. The Academy is tough. Olivia gets homesick. Peter makes her a drink. Lucas dumps Olivia. John likes Olivia. Olivia likes John. Peter likes Olivia. Creepy teacher Harris likes her, too – that's not good. John almost kisses Olivia. Peter interrupts. Everyone goes bowling. Peter and Olivia try cow tipping. Rachael gets married. John, Olivia, Charlie and Astrid get in a car accident. John and Olivia kiss. John goes back to Baltimore. Harris threatens Olivia. Olivia gets a creepy card on her birthday. Peter and Olivia almost kiss. Charlie and Peter give her a surprise party. Olivia kisses Peter. Peter and Olivia start dating and swim on Akim's farm. Observers foresee trouble. Harris attacks Olivia. Olivia fights back. Peter gets mad. Olivia and Peter date again, but struggle to make things work. Students have exams. Harris goes to court. Olivia testifies. Peter and Olivia fight. Peter comes back. Harris testifies. Harris goes to jail. Everybody goes camping. Peter tells Olivia he loves her. Olivia freaks out. The students get results. Olivia learns about Fringe Division and meets Nina Sharp. Olivia breaks up with Peter. Peter is pissed. The students graduate. Peter and Olivia fight, then sleep together. Olivia leaves Peter. She also leaves a note saying she loves him too. Four months later, Peter is back in town when Walter gets sick, but is still very angry at him. Olivia helps Charlie prepare to propose to Sonya. Peter calls Olivia. They decide to reunite. They reminisce over coffee. Olivia's an intern now. Peter's been in Africa. Olivia asks him to come to her place for dinner since he's back in Boston. Peter agrees.

**Boston (recap):**

Peter and Olivia have dinner after four months apart. Rachael is pregnant. Olivia starts work as an FBI junior agent. Lincoln is her partner (she thinks he's hot). Creepy terrorists are killing trafficked prostitutes in Boston – not cool. Peter and Olivia live together as friends. Peter becomes Walter's guardian – he's not happy. Lincoln asks Olivia out. Peter gets angsty with Lincoln. Olivia kisses Lincoln. Olivia gets mad at Peter. Olivia's mum dies. Peter and Olivia decide to get back together. Charlie throws up on Peter at Coney Island. Broyles creates an FBI task force against ZFT. Olivia kills a man for the first time. Olivia tells Peter she loves him. Olivia interviews a trafficking victim. Peter builds a piano. Peter and Olivia sleep together for the first time in their new relationship. Olivia interrogates a seedy ZFT member. Olivia is given the undercover job. Olivia and Peter fight. Olivia and Peter make up. Olivia goes undercover while Peter and the others monitor her wiretap. Olivia gets attacked but is rescued at the last minute. Peter misses Olivia. Olivia gets given heroin. Peter dodges Tessa's vagenda. Olivia sends Peter a message. Olivia gets taken to Conrad and is sexually abused while unconscious. The FBI rescues Olivia. Olivia goes through heroin withdrawal. Olivia snaps from the trauma. Peter helps Olivia heal. Peter and Olivia talk about maybe getting married one day. The agents go to New York to receive awards. Charlie and Olivia become FBI Special Agents. They all rock out in Times Square. Baby Ella is born… A year and a half later, Olivia and Peter are babysitting Ella. Peter brings up marriage, but Olivia isn't ready. A couple of months later, Olivia tells him she's ready. Peter proposes. She says yes.

**To Build a Home (recap):**

Olivia and Peter are now married. Olivia comes home from Germany after working on a case there. David Robert Jones has escaped from jail and Olivia may be in danger. Charlie makes Bug Girl cry. Olivia gets beaten on a raid. She has a miscarriage. Jones starts killing people in Boston. Olivia begins to investigate Cortexiphan. Peter and Olivia babysit Ella. Nina tells Olivia Cortexiphan was tested in Jacksonville. Olivia finds out she's pregnant and gets scared. Peter glimmers. Peter and Olivia confront Walter. Peter finds out he's from the other side. Astrid comes to Boston. Jones kills the Artist. Peter and Olivia go for their first ultrasound. Jones turns himself in. Olivia interrogates him. Olivia diffuses a bomb with her mind. Peter fights with Olivia about putting herself and the baby in danger. They tell their family and friends about the baby. Observers see dark times ahead. Olivia and Peter find out their baby is a boy. They also find out some of his organs are growing outside of his body and he will need major surgery. They plan to sell their apartment to pay for his treatment. Their friends pay for an anniversary celebration for them. Broyles organises for the FBI to pay for their baby's medical bills. Brandon and Massive Dynamic find out the baby is sick because his parents are from opposing universes – he's not supposed to exist. Jones kidnaps Olivia and tries to take her baby. August saves her. Olivia gives birth. They name the baby Liam. Liam survives his first surgery but the second surgery on his heart almost kills him. He gets better and they take him home. Peter and Olivia struggle to manage family life and work. In trying to have another child, they lose many babies. Finally, they are blessed with a daughter, Ashley, who is deaf. The war between universes intensifies. Olivia's alternate breaches their world, but Liam recognises her before much damage can be done. Olivia is brought home. Liam learns he has pyrokinetic powers. Peter and Olivia discuss the machine. The world is dying…

**And that brings us to the final chapter of this trilogy. Thanks again for all your support, guys. I will miss your kind reviews and encouragement. **

**Chap 33: The Boy Was Important**

**References: lines from The Last Sam Weiss, The Day We Died and 6:02am EST; introductions (Subject 13), **

It's probably the last night of his life, and Peter Bishop finds himself unable to sleep.

Fatigue creeps over him, sinking into his body like a ghost passing through, but he refuses to close his eyes even for a second. He knows he's probably going to die in the morning. His wife sleeps fitfully in his arms, clinging to him through her nightmares, but he doesn't have the heart to wake her. The reality is far more devastating than anything her imagination could conjure up. So he leaves her there, in the treacherous hollows of her dreamscape, praying to a god he's never believed in that she please, please won't remember them when she wakes.

His eyelids droop closed, but he jolts himself awake. The phrase "_I'll sleep when I'm dead_" becomes frighteningly relevant, and part of him wants to cry and scream and burn the world down.

Then he realises that that's exactly what he aims to do. Burn the world down. Just not this one.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. One he can't swallow down. Because frankly, he never wanted to turn out like Walter.

_Nai enai kalitero anthropo apo ton patera tou._

Be a better man than your father.

What a fucking joke.

He was cursed from the beginning, it seems. He knows that now. Prophecy. Fate. Whatever. He has no choice. It's already done.

He knows if he lies still another minute he's going to fall asleep, so untangles himself from his wife's clutches and picks his boxers up off the floor, putting them on and trudging out to the kitchen. He tries to be quiet. Even though it takes a vortex and a half to wake Liam and Ashley is deaf, he's never broken the habit of tiptoeing around as they sleep. His first instinct is to raid the fridge, but the taste of unshed tears in the back of his clamped-tight throat reminds him that he just can't stomach food right now.

Instead he decides to visit his children. Liam's room is closer, so he heads inside and kneels by his bed. It's easier than he expects it to be. Amid the pain, he finds comfort there, watching his little boy sleep in his oversized Boston Bruins jersey. Somehow the idea that he has children softens the blow of the idea of dying. There's a piece of him left in the world now. Two pieces. Someone to remember him. But even so, no little boy should have to live without his Daddy. He and Olivia both grew up without their fathers – he doesn't want that for their kids.

Almost five years old. Too damn young.

Peter strokes the boy's hair, lightly brushing some out of the way so he can kiss him softly. Tucking the blankets tighter around his son, he finds his hands are shaking. "I love you, kid," he chokes, backing out of the room before he falls to pieces.

He does the same for Ashley. Two and a half years old. The green-eyed, freckle-faced, dark haired little girl who adores him, loves to wrap her arms around his neck when she hugs him and snuggles next to him on the couch when he plays music for her, placing the speakers against her tummy so she can giggle at the vibrations. Looking down on her now, her innocence overwhelms him. Nobody's really hurt her yet, or abandoned her. He'll be the first. But she'll be OK, right? She's a tough kid. Smart. Yes. She'll be alright, even if he's not around anymore. As he strokes her hair, he suddenly realises that as much as she has always been smitten with him, she probably won't even remember him when she grows up. The thought is sickening, like a sucker punch to the stomach. Crippling. It fucking hurts.

"Why did you do that?" someone asks.

Still kneeling by his daughter's bed, he turns his head to see Olivia standing at the door, dressed in his shirt, arms crossed and hair messy. She looks upset. Angry.

"Do what?" he asks softly.

"Get out of bed. I woke up and you weren't there."

He runs a hand down his face, sighing. "I'm sorry I scared you."

She braces herself to yell. "Do you even-?"

"Shh," he interrupts in a harsh whisper, getting up and closing Ashley's door. "You'll wake the kids."

They step out into the corridor. And then, for a long time, neither of them says anything.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

A single tear slides down her cheek, and she wipes it away harshly. She doesn't want him to see her cry. Not now. She doesn't get to break down _now_.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks him.

"Livia, you know why."

"I need you to tell me."

He exhales. "I have to. There's no other way."

"There must be."

"If there is, we don't have time to find it. Our world's falling to pieces, Olivia. Walternate's got spies starting vortexes over here, the laws of physics are changing, Detroit just got sucked into a fucking wormhole -"

"Don't," she chokes.

"The world's dying. When's it going to stop, Olivia? Vortexes are happening every week. What happens when the next one hits the federal building, or our house, or Ashley's pre-school -"

"_Stop it_."

He does. Just for a moment. Amid the chaos, he has to remind himself to keep breathing. In and out. In. And. Out.

"I won't let this get any worse, Olivia," he sighs, stepping closer to her. "I won't. And the way that machine responded to me after I touched it, it's like it's been calling out to me. Every piece of data we have about the machine points to one conclusion. Somehow, that machine was made for me."

She shakes her head. "Peter, we have no idea what the machine will do to you. You could die."

He nods. Swallows. Tries not to cry. "You're right," he chokes. "But if we do nothing, we're all gonna die. I think this is what I'm supposed to do, Olivia. But I can't do it without your help."

"Peter…"

His name is a quiet sob. She tries to stifle the ones that follow, her shoulders trembling under the pressure. He takes her in his arms. "I know," he whispers into her hair. "I know."

"I won't let you do this," she cries. "I can't."

"I don't want to. But I have to."

"Why?"

The answer is obvious. He pulls back, uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe her tears away. He doesn't worry about his own. "I have to," he says. "Because I love you. And I love our children. There's another you over there, but she's not the you I'm in love with. There's no Liam on the other side, and there's no Ashley. And I really wish I could save all three of you without destroying another world, but this is the only way. It's the only way. If I have to risk my life to keep my family safe then I will do it a thousand times over, Olivia. You know that. Walter and the Massive Dynamic guys are pretty confident the machine won't kill me. It'll be OK. I prom-"

"Don't," she snaps, her voice harsh but trembling. "Don't you dare promise me a damn thing."

He concedes, because as usual, she's right. They have no idea what will happen next.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she says. "You shouldn't have to do this. It shouldn't be your responsibility."

Part of him breaks then. She's right.

It's not fair.

He feels her pull him close before he even realises he's crying. He sobs quietly into the familiar warmth of her skin, but part of him feels nothing – like it isn't really him doing this. He feels almost like he's acting in a play, or watching this happen to someone else, simply because there's no way something like this could ever happen to him.

Without even thinking, he chokes, "I'm scared."

She doesn't say anything. There is nothing that can be said. All she can do is hold him. Her language is all touches, tight hugs, faint pepperings of kisses along his shoulder. She prays that it will bring him some comfort, but she doesn't think that it will.

"Olivia…" His voice is a sick, wet choke then. He doesn't bother to wipe his face. "If something happens to me tomorrow…"

"Shhh…"

"If something happens…"

"Don't."

He shakes his head. She needs to hear this. "Don't let our children forget who their father was. OK?"

Her heart breaks at his request. But she knows that while he can't make any promises, she can.

"Of course not," she says. "Never."

"Don't ever forget me, Olivia."

"That's impossible," she says.

He nods. For now, that is enough for him.

She kisses him. He tastes like whiskey and dynamite, and from that first touch, she needs more, always more. A single tear slipping down her face, she deepens the kiss, running her hands over his heated chest before he breaks the kiss to pull her shirt over her head. Without a moment's pause, she starts kissing him again and gently tugging him back to their bedroom.

It's not enough for her to just tell him she loves him right now. She needs to show him. And he needs to show her just as badly.

Because God only knows when they'll get another chance.

* * *

><p>It's Ashley, not Olivia, who wakes him in the morning.<p>

The little girl presses her tiny hands against Peter's arm, shaking him. Groaning softly, he opens one eye to see a cheeky little girl grinning back at him. '_Hi Daddy_!' she signs, giggling.

He chuckles a little, wiping his eyes with a free hand and signing a quick '_hello_'. For a moment it feels like a normal morning. It takes Peter a moment to remember the night before, taking in his surroundings and realising that he and his wife are still very naked in bed, thankfully covered by the blankets. They forgot to lock the door last night. They put that lock in a few years back after 22-month-old Liam didn't stay in bed like he was supposed to and went looking for them, catching an eyeful of a whole lot of stuff he shouldn't have seen. That being said, it's not like they never show affection in front of their kids. They are always holding hands, snuggling on the couch, sneaking in kisses. Neither of them grew up in stable families. They want their kids to know what a good marriage looks like.

Peter inhales to find the smell of Olivia's hair and savours the feel of her sleeping against his chest, his hand tracing constellations between the stray freckles on her back. He tucks the blankets a little higher around them both and turns his face back to Ashley. '_Can we have pancakes?_' she signs. Her signing's gotten so good lately, it makes him that proud.

'_Not now, Ashley_.'

'_Why not?_'

'_I'm Mommy's pillow_,' he jokes, gesturing to his sleeping wife. '_Soon. Go watch cartoons or something._'

"It's OK," Olivia murmurs against his skin. Apparently they woke her up. He looks down and sees her wipe her eyes, smiling softly up at him. "We should get up anyway. We can't stay here forever."

That simple truth feels like a punch in the gut. They really can't stay there forever. But God, how he wants to. How he wishes he could stay in bed with her, just the two of them, the sun warming the sheets. If it were up to him, he'd close those curtains tight and pretend there was no world beyond that room. But he can't.

"OK," he whispers, kissing her hair. He lingers there a little longer than he normally does, hoping to somehow wordlessly tell her that he's sorry and he loves her and he really, really wishes there was another way.

'_Go wake up your brother and wait in the kitchen_,' Olivia signs to Ashley. '_We'll be out soon_.'

Satisfied, the little girl runs off. Olivia slips from her husband's arms and gets dressed. Part of her can't even look at him. If she does, she'll have to face everything, and right now, that's enough to crush her. It doesn't matter how many people from Massive Dynamic explain to her that Peter and the machine are inextricably linked. It needs him, they told her. It won't kill him. But she's still terrified. They can't know that for sure. It reminds her of what it felt like when her father went to war – the hope that he'd be OK, the fear that he wouldn't, and the need to keep him close, to never let him go.

Of course, her father never came back from the war like he was supposed to.

But she shakes those thoughts from her mind. Peter has to do this. She knows that. And he'll be OK. They've suffered enough in their lives, haven't they? Surely he won't die.

As if reading her mind, Peter steps close behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle and kissing her shoulder. "You're thinking too hard," he whispers against her skin.

"Peter…" she murmurs, reaching a hand around to the back of his head, keeping him close.

"It'll be alright. This is us. We'll make it through this like we make it through everything else."

She hopes she's right. Despite the uncertainty of what lies ahead, she nods – to reassure him if not herself. "Come on," she says, twisting around in his arms. Hooking her arms around his neck, she kisses him tenderly. Sweetly. "Let's just have a good morning with the kids, OK?"

He nods, and she catches a flicker of pain behind his eyes. "OK."

Her next kiss is one of comfort. She knows he's slowly coming to terms with the risk he's about to take. But she also knows that part of him is only really starting to feel the gravity of it for the first time. "I love you," she murmurs against his lips.

He can't bring himself to respond, but she knows he loves her too. She's always known.

* * *

><p>Their morning with the kids is a surreal one. It's odd, the way that they know something the kids don't. They do their best to keep it all from them – to act like everything's normal. The two and four year olds are far too young to understand it, let alone deal with it. Ashley and Liam help Olivia make pancakes, always quibbling over who gets to stir the mix or who gets to put the blueberries in. Peter makes eggs over-easy, bacon and grapefruit juice because he knows it's his wife's favourite. She feels like it should be her making him something, but he insists.<p>

Then comes the hard part. They get the kids in the car and drive over to the lab. Astrid's offered to take care of them. Lately, she's been taking care of all the kids at Fringe Division, it seems. They're always leaving Ashley and Liam with her, and since Charlie was killed by a shape-shifter a couple of months ago, Sonya's been too busy working to take care of Lucy as much as she used to. Astrid's taken on the extra responsibility gracefully, without complaint – but then again, that's always been Astrid's way.

When he says his goodbye to Astrid, Olivia is distracting the kids in the corner. Astrid approaches him gingerly and he pulls her into a warm hug, smiling softly into her frizzy hair. He's known her just as long as he's known Olivia, since the Academy days. She's practically a little sister to him now. She's a devoted Aunt to his kids, a dear friend to his father. He'll always be grateful for everything she's done. But there's one more thing he must ask of her.

"Astrid," he says softly, pulling a letter from his pocket. "I don't know what's going to happen today, but if something goes wrong…"

"Peter…"

He sighs. "Can you give this to my family?" he asks, handing her the letter.

She shakes her head. "Whatever that says, you can tell them yourself."

"Please," he begs softly, pressing the paper into her hands. She doesn't have the heart to tell him no, so she nods. "Thank you, Astrid. For everything."

She tries to smile. "We'll be here waiting for you."

"Thanks," he replies sincerely, but his voice cracks under the strain.

His hands are shaking as he walks over to where his kids are playing with their mom. They look so happy it hurts him. He knows he's about to upset them, but he tries to remind himself that this isn't goodbye. They're going to make it out of this. He'll see his kids again soon.

He wants so badly to believe that.

He kneels down to their level, hugging them both tight. "I have to leave, kids," he says, biting back tears as he signs along so Ashley can understand. "I have to go to New York for work."

"When are you coming back, Daddy?"

"Soon, Liam," he chokes, holding both children close to him. "Soon, I promise."

Ashley waves to get his attention, seeing the unshed tears that hang in his eyes. '_Daddy, why are you sad?_'

He forces a smile. '_I'm sad because I have to go far away for a while and I don't want to leave you._'

'_Stay, Daddy_,' Liam signs.

The pleading look in his children's eyes makes it so hard not to cry. He loves his children. Possibly more than they'll ever know. He doesn't want to do this. But if he loves them, he'll do what's best for them – he'll risk his life for them if he has to. "I have to go, buddy," he apologises. "But while I'm gone you take good care of your Mommy and your sister for me, OK?"

"OK," Liam whispers, hugging his father tight.

Peter rubs a hand over the boy's back, trying to soothe him. "I love you, Liam," he whispers into the boy's hair. "I'm so proud of you. Don't forget that, OK?"

Liam nods, wiping his eyes as he pulls back. He's trying so hard to be a big boy, to be brave, but he hates seeing his Daddy go away for work. It seems like his parents are always taking off somewhere, though he knows they have an important job.

Ashley is empathetic to Liam's sadness and starts crying too. She's always been that way with her brother – they share a bond nobody comprehends but them. Even Astrid sheds a tear, looking on with Olivia, who refuses to break. Peter pulls his daughter close for a bear hug and kisses her forehead. '_Don't cry, sweetheart_,' he signs, forcing a smile and wiping her tears away with his thumb. '_You're way too pretty to cry.' _He points to himself, crosses his arms over his chest and points to her: _I love you_. She signs the same thing back. '_I'll be home soon, darling girl_,' he promises her. '_It's going to be OK_.'

He hopes that he didn't just lie to his children, telling them it will all be fine. There's so much that he wants to tell them – so much that he's _supposed_ to teach his kids as a father - but he's run out of time. As a family, they were barely getting started. He's failed them.

Peter feels himself start to tremble as he holds his children, possibly for the last time. He knows that if he stays there one more second he's going to lose it. That would only scare them. They're too young, he thinks bitterly to himself as he gives them one last kiss. They're too damn young for any of this.

"Daddy loves you both so much," he tells them one last time, struggling to keep it together. "Don't you ever forget how much I love you."

But it isn't until he's in the car, as Olivia drives them away from the lab on the way to New York, that he starts sobbing.

* * *

><p>"There's a boat leaving for Manhattan in five minutes!" Broyles shouts, storming through the hangar where they're keeping the device. "I want all non-essential personnel on it! That means get out now!"<p>

Scientists scuffle away at the roar of his voice. The ground is shaking now. There isn't much time left.

Peter is getting into a Massive Dynamic suit that will protect him from electrical currents. They don't know that it will help against a machine like this, but they have to take every measure they can. Brandon quickly packs his stuff to leave but Olivia stops him. "Brandon…" she starts. Her voice is weaker than she needs it to be. "What happens now? If Peter gets into the machine?"

"We're not sure," he admitted, his heart going out to her.

Her next question is a harder one. "Does he die?"

"No," he sighs. "I don't think so."

"You don't _think_ so?"

He runs a hand over his face. "As I understand it, the machine is indestructible. So if Peter gets in, he should be safe. I'm sorry, Olivia, that's all I can tell you."

She can't take his word as gospel, but she has to trust it. After all, in all the years she's known him, she's can't remember a single time when Brandon's ever been wrong about something like this. She nods. Yes. He should be alright. "Thank you, Brandon. For everything."

He nods. "Good luck, Olivia," he says, and then he's on the boat back to New York.

Peter comes back in his suit, ready to go. There's a silence in the room now.

It's time.

Walter approaches his son, barely holding it together. "Can I get you anything, son? A sedative? Something to calm you?"

He shakes his head. "I'm calm."

And stunningly, it's true. Something's shifted in him. He's not afraid anymore. He knows this is right. It's what he was meant to do – what he was _always_ meant to do. And if worst comes to worst, if he does die, then it will be worth it if the people he loves are safe.

"You're sure?"

"I'm OK, Walter."

Walter trembles. He looks like he'll cry. "I was never good at letting you go," he says quietly. But he knows it's his sacrifice to make. A son for a son.

"This time you have to," Peter says gravely.

The old man feels a stab of pride amid his despair. "Son…"

"I know," Peter replies with a small smile, and that is enough.

Broyles approaches them, offering Peter his hand. It initially took him a while to respect this young man, but now he can't help but admire Peter for what he's about to do. "The techs said they're ready when you are, Peter. Good luck."

Peter shakes his hand. "If this works and I save both universes, I want you to consider me officially retired."

Broyles is not often one to smile, but somehow he manages now. "I'll think about it," he jokes.

Turning away, Peter faces his wife. She forces a small smile, trying to encourage him, but she's shaking. He steps closer to her, tucking some hair behind her ear. He doesn't know what to say, so she speaks first.

"You ready?"

He smirks. "No. You?"

"No," she admits. There's a small smile between them now. She sees conviction in his eyes. He knows what he has to do. He's not afraid anymore. She can tell.

But damn her if she's not going to do every bit of this by his side. She takes his hand and walks right up to the machine with him. To abandon him any sooner would be a failure. He grips her hand. She grips his back.

Just as he's about to step onto the first platform, she tugs him back. "Peter…" There are a million things going through her head as she holds his gaze, but only one she can voice aloud. "I love you."

For a moment, he can't bring himself to speak. Holding her close, tenderly, with everything in him, he kisses her. Because they've never needed words anyway. Not really.

He realises that he's been with Olivia for almost ten years. Married for six. Could it have really been nine years? Already?

It felt so fast.

He wants that kiss to last forever, but it can't. They have to keep breathing. He presses his forehead against hers as they break apart, reminding himself why he's about to do this. He does it for her. For his children. Because all three of them have given him a love he's never before known. Because the world would be a darker place if they weren't in it.

Yes. They're worth the risk.

He kisses her one last time, softly, and somehow lets her go. He doesn't know how he manages to step away from her, but he does. The loss of her skin against his is a sharp sensation. He feels cold.

Looking up at the machine, he feels its call. He's never realised just how enormous it is until now, standing directly beneath it. For the first time, he wonders if it will hurt. Then he realises that even if there is pain, if this machine does want to harm him for some reason, he'll probably be dead before he can notice it.

Stepping onto the platform, he feels it raise him up, taking him to where he needs to go. He looks down at his wife, who's staring up at him just as terrified as he is.

And then they start coming. The flashbacks - his life "flashing before his eyes". Or more specifically, their life together, crammed into a thirty-second rush inside his head.

What he sees is this:

_Olivia watching him read Liam to sleep, her head against the doorframe, a small smile on her face. Noticing the 13-month-old boy is well and truly asleep, his little face adorably squashed into the pillow, Peter closes The Little Prince and kisses him softly, switching off the light and joining his wife. He closes the door behind him, placing his hands on her hips as he kisses her. "You're good at this," she tells him earnestly. "Being a father." Those words mean a lot to him, and she knows it. She deepens the kiss, smiling against his lips as she breaks for air. "You still want another one of those?" she chuckles, nodding her head towards Liam's room. _

_He laughs. "You know I do," he replies, kissing down her neck. "And I think we should get started on that right away." _

_She laughs at that, the sound reverberating through his body. "Actually that's not really necessary."_

"_Do I need to give you a refresher course of 6__th__ grade science, Livia?" he chuckles against her skin, kissing lower still. "Coz it's definitely necessary."_

_She realises he's missing the point. Kissing his lips once more, she smiles and takes his hand, placing it firmly against her still-flat belly and keeping it there. _

_His eyes go wide. "You're…?"_

_She nods._

"_Say it," he asks her softly._

_Grinning, she obliges, tenderly taking his face in her palm. "I'm pregnant."_

_But he still can't grasp it. "Say it again."_

"_Peter!" she laughs._

"_I'm sorry, sweetheart, I just can't believe this!" he laughs joyfully, glancing between her face and stomach. "We're really having another baby?"_

"_I found out a few days ago. I've been waiting for a good time to tell you."_

_Shaking his head in joyous disbelief, he laughs and peppers her face with tiny kisses. "I love you," he murmurs. "I love you, I love you…" Deciding it's time to celebrate, he playfully picks her up and carries her laughing to their bedroom, kissing her all the way, both of them completely unaware that they will lose the baby only three weeks later. _

_Olivia at their wedding. The image of Olivia on that day remains the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. They decide to get married in Virginia – back where it all began. Akim still lives there, so they borrow his farm cottage for the wedding. They have so many memories of that house – making quiet dinners together, swimming in the lake on the farm, playing with Gene, sleeping together for the first time. It's spring, and the woods are more stunning than they've ever been. Everyone stays in the cottage for the weekend, and each person contributes something to the wedding. Astrid and Sonya cook every delicious meal from scratch, the guys set up tables, fires and fairy lights outside on the farm, little Ella is a devoted flower girl, Rachael has designed and made Olivia's dress herself and Greg puts his artistic expertise to use and does all the photography. Walter even offers Peter his purple suit (which he refuses), and some surprisingly touching fatherly advice. They all spend the weekend together as family, preparing everything, revisiting Quantico and relaxing - then on the Sunday night, Peter and Olivia get married. It's not a big wedding, but it's heartfelt. The only people there are the people that matter, and when they are officially pronounced husband and wife, Peter looks into Olivia's eyes and kisses her with all he has._

_Olivia telling him she's leaving Quantico. She got a placement in Boston and she thinks it will be best if they break up. He tries to bargain with her, ask her what he did wrong, promises he'll try better. But she insists it's better this way, and he storms away from her, unable to contain his anger. _

_Olivia holding baby Ella for the first time in the hospital. She's utterly smitten with her new niece, bringing out a side of her he's never before seen. They're just boyfriend and girlfriend now, but for the first time ever, he imagines them ten years down the track, with a family of their own. He sees what the two of them together forever looks like, and it's beautiful._

_Olivia and John at the Whitehorse. They're "just friends", but Peter knows better. He gets them their drinks and minds his own business, but when he sees John's hand gently brush Olivia's, there's a jealous tug in his gut that he fights to keep at bay. Then he shakes his head to clear it. Olivia's better of with John anyway. She deserves a good guy, not a criminal nomad who barely has his life together. No, he decides. He definitely doesn't have a chance with the likes of Olivia Dunham._

_Olivia after her first date with Lincoln. She's furious. He maintains that he had a good reason to try to intimidate Lincoln, but she only yells at him. She tells him to mind his own business and stay out of her life, and when she calls him an idiot as she storms out of his room, he feels like one. _

_Olivia after she testifies against Harris. They fought during the trial, but that's over now. They cry in each other's arms, overwhelmed by the whole experience of facing her attacker. But when he looks into her tear-filled eyes, he sees that there's still fight in her. That's when he realises that she is more amazing than anyone he's every known. That's the moment when he decides that no matter what happens at the end of her training, he'd be the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived if he got to marry her someday._

_Olivia, sitting on the couch in their apartment, watching TV in his arms. In a quiet moment, out of nowhere, she kisses him and tells him she loves him for the first time. _

_Olivia doing shots with her college friends in his bar at Quantico._

_Olivia gripping his hands, crying out through the pains of childbirth._

_Olivia teaching Liam and Ashley how to ice skate. _

_Olivia sleeping in her hospital bed, bruised and broken, after Harris attacked her._

_Olivia bringing him pizza on late nights at the lab._

_Olivia holding his hand through bad nights in the NICU._

_Olivia getting her Federal Agent badge._

_Olivia kissing him for the first time._

_Olivia._

_Olivia._

_Olivia. _

Meanwhile, his wife watches on from the foot of the machine. Olivia feels sick. It suddenly hits her that if this doesn't work, she's just about to witness her husband's death. Right in front of her.

She can't watch. She can't.

But she finds that she can't turn away either.

Through the whirlwind inside her head, her primary feeling is one of panic. The thought of seeing her husband die, the world ending, raising their children alone. Part of her can't even believe this is happening at all. Peter's always been there. Through some of the worst times of her life, and some of the best. The thought of a life without him just feels wrong.

And the flashbacks start to come back to her too, her mind reeling through the past nine years she's had with this man as she tries to preserve every memory of him she can.

_Peter sitting next to her under a tree. It's their honeymoon, and they've spent the past few weeks in Canada together, driving across the country, camping, snowboarding, skating, and hiking their way through the stunning national parks there. It's not a traditional honeymoon, but it's been a perfect adventure for them - they'd be bored to death on a beach somewhere. They're at Lake Louise now, just outside of Banff, and after weeks of making love under the stars they'll be finally sleeping in a real bed tonight. They sit on the grass, backs against an enormous pine tree centuries older than them, watching the Northern Lights shimmer in ethereal ripples over the horizon. The green and purple glow of the sky illuminates their skin, and Olivia drags her eyes away from the brilliant lights to glance at Peter's face. He's mesmerised, holding her close as they soak in their surroundings. As she snuggles closer in his arms, she realises there's a thin line between heaven and here. She wishes they could stay like this forever – in love, in the most beautiful place in the world, without a single thing to worry about. She tips his face to hers, kissing him tenderly, and in that moment, even the Northern Lights can't hold a candle to them. _

_Peter in bed next to her, his hand rubbing gentle circles over the large swell of her belly, whispering to their little girl inside. She pretends to be asleep, listening to his sweet words. "I can't wait to meet you, sweetheart," he says, tenderly kissing her belly. Hearing this, Olivia's heart swells and she feels their seven-month baby roll over inside her. "Mommy and I have waited so long to have you, and you have a big brother who's very excited and can't wait to play with you all the time. Things haven't been easy for us, little one. We've lost a few of your big brothers and sisters, but you're gonna make it. I know it. Daddy loves you so much, darling girl. Since the moment I found out Mommy was pregnant, I have always loved you…" _

_Peter in an ambulance. He caught a bullet on a raid. It's just a flesh wound, through and through the arm, but Olivia is shaken. Lying on his stretcher, he weakly laughs at how worried she is. "Now you know how I feel when you run off and do something stupid," he chuckles, and she can't help but force a little smile as she realises how worried her fiancé must get every time she goes on raids. He groans softly. "You know they never tell you in the movies how much getting shot actually hurts," he tries to joke, and she holds his hand, wishing she could make the pain go away._

_Peter when they get home from Thanksgiving dinner with their family. He carries a sleeping Liam to bed and tucks him in, coming back out to meet his wife. It's been the first night out they've had in a while. They've had a hard year, between losing babies and managing Liam and saving the world. But they're still together and in love, and that's something to be thankful for. For the first time in a long time, they are relaxed. Happy, even. She kisses him, and he kisses her back, and before long they stumble into bed together, and Ashley Olive Dunham-Bishop is…conceived. _

_Peter joining in on the first years' Muck-up Day food fight at the Academy. He's covered head to toe in flour, coke, rotten fruit and fish oil, but when he kisses her, she savours it. Their time together in Quantico is running out, and she's sure that when she leaves him, she will break his heart. _

_Peter at the flea markets in Boston with her on a date, when he falls in love with that old, broken-down piano, buying it and making it his mission to restore it. _

_Peter having coffee with her after they haven't seen each other for four months. He's been in South Africa. He looks darker in the eyes than he was before he left. She's sure something happened to him over there, something terrible, but as they sit in the park and reminisce over old times, she doesn't have the courage to find out what. _

_Peter in the heat of an argument, telling her not to go undercover in the brothels because if she does, she'll be asking for it just like Harris said she did. She tells him she hates him and that he should move out. Their first huge fight. _

_Peter holding her from behind, his hands resting over the tiny baby in her belly as they watch the 4__th__ of July fireworks with their friends and family, imagining what the future will bring._

_Peter holding her when she was coming off heroin._

_Peter kissing her under the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park._

_Peter dancing with her at Charlie and Sonya's engagement party in Brooklyn_

_Peter taking her to Reiden Lake at 5am to see the sunrise._

_Peter making her Red Russians at the Whitehorse._

_Peter crying when Liam was born._

_Peter glimmering._

_Peter asking her to marry him. _

_Peter Bishop - the man who kisses her kids goodnight. _

That's the moment when she realises that she wouldn't be able to survive in this world if he died. She watches, terrified, as she sees Peter step into the machine. There's an interaction between the two now – the device reacts to him, reaching out to hold onto him. That image of the device locking on to Peter - gripping his limbs, stringing him up as if he's about to be crucified - is as mesmerising as it is horrifying.

She wants so badly to close her eyes for this part, but she feels like that would do Peter a great disservice. If something goes wrong tonight, she needs to be with him to the end.

Because no matter how bad things got, they always got through them together. Always.

_Til death do us part._

She never thought this day would come so soon.

Peter looks down on her one more time, hoping to silently communicate one last time that he loves her. Tears streaming down her face, she forces a tight smile and nods.

She knows.

As the machine locks onto him, stretching him almost painfully, one last memory refuses to let go of Peter's mind:

_He's killing time at the bar in Quantico, day shift, nobody around. And that girl walks in. He's seen her before. She's 22 or 23. Blonde. Green eyes. Attractive, but not in a conventional way - she's actually classically beautiful. He can tell she's smart too. Ambitious. He might have flirted with her a bit in their brief conversations so far, but he sees this as his big opportunity to make a real first impression. She sits at the bar, asks for something special. She downs her first Red Russian with a grimace and he can't help but laugh. Her first week of FBI training has been brutal, and she won't readily admit it, but she misses home. They talk. She mentions a boyfriend and he feels like an idiot. But he continues his routine of friendly charm anyway. He figures she's nice. Interesting. More than meets the eye. He hopes, at the very least, they will become friends. _

_Then comes the important part. "My name's Peter," he says, smiling and offering her his hand._

_She takes it, and the way her eyes look when she smiles nearly kills him. _

"_Mine's Olivia."_

And with that thought in his head, the machine begins to hum.

**And that's all, folks. **

**I know I will cop some flack for ending it this way, but I should quickly make one thing clear. I did not just blast Peter into non-existence. If you notice, I wrote this like the ending of the Last Sam Weiss where he goes in to destroy the other world to save those he loves. He survives, the other world dies, and Liam and Ashley still exist (like in the future universe before the finale ending). **

**Please review! I'd like to hear what you thought about this chapter but also the story as a whole. Did you have any favourite parts? Was there anything I could have done better? Please let me know, I love to hear what you all think.**

**Thanks again, God bless, and bring on season 4!**

**Ps. For those who have asked - no, there will not be a sequel. I've given you three stories, don't get greedy, lol! ; )**


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